The Coming of St Elmo's Fire
by KPKincaid
Summary: "They say dreams are memories of a past life." Emma's stubborn, but so is the man who won't give up on her. Getting back to Storybrooke is just the beginning, as the two end up in an unfamiliar world they weren't ready for, with only the belief in each other to guide them home. CaptainSwan.
1. Chapter 1

**Just as a note, this story starts in New York where the show left off, but I plan to take it well beyond that soon enough.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own ****_Once Upon a Time_**** or its characters, but it sure is fun making them do as I wish!**

**This chapter's rating: K-T for mild language and innuendo.**

* * *

There wasn't a need for stealth from either man as they continued toward the town line, wrapped in the darkness and quiet of the night. Had an outsider been standing anywhere near the perimeter of the town the two men had walked from, they would have seen only inhospitable terrain, the lonely road surrounded by weeds and marsh.

To anyone else, the town and its recent adventures simply did not exist.

The more cautious of the pair slowed his pace to a halt; his boots shuffled the last of the autumn leaves as he looked up at the sign marked "Leaving Storybrooke." He sighed and the sound resonated around them in the silence.

"I'm fairly certain this is the worst of your ideas so far," he stated, looking out to the horizon where the road out of the town vanished into obscurity. "And that's really saying something considering all the stunts you've pulled over the past year."

The second man was hunched over, grazing his calloused hand over the painted line that marked the border between Storybrooke and the rest of the world. The question pulled him from his reverie, as he looked over his shoulder and grinned.

"You don't know the half of it, mate."

In the moonlight, the pirate captain's playfulness was obvious, but not shared by his companion. Hook clasped his partner on the shoulder and chuckled knowingly.

"Relax, Robin. If Regina says it will work, then it will."

Giving him another wide grin, Hook reached into his front coat pocket and pulled out a small vial. Turning it in his hand, he inspected it closely.

"Still," Hook said as he raised his brow, "this would be the perfect opportunity to enact her revenge on me after that magic-inhibiting cuff incident."

Robin finally cracked a smile at this and shook his head, the chorus of crickets chirping the only sound around them.

"I don't think she will ever truly forgive you for that."

Hook seemed appalled by this, looking up from the vile. "Her forgive _me_? The woman left me to die down in that bloody cave!"

"There are certainly two versions of that story," Robin reflected aloud, pulling the hood over his head as the chilly wind picked up.

Grumbling and cursing under his breath, Hook pocketed the vile again. After reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a flask and offered it to his friend. With a nod of appreciation, Robin uncorked the container and took a long swig, allowing the rum to warm him up before passing it back.

After a moment of shared silence, Robin spoke again, this time more serious. "I can't help but be concerned, after what happened to Neal."

Hook shrugged and then returned the flask to his coat, the leather rustling in the quiet night.

"The physician said he will recover as soon as we escape this ruddy place," his voice was strained despite his casual posture.

"And that's the problem isn't it?" Robin's words were like a quiet plea, reaching out to the universe in hopes of obtaining the answer to their dilemma.

"According to Whale, trying to leave here is what landed him in a hospital bed to begin with."

Hook's slight grimace was gone as quickly as it had appeared, his features now thoughtful. "Yeah, well, he was trying to get to Emma." His words were steady and Hook's expression softened before continuing. "And that I can certainly understand."

Robin moved closer and placed a hand on Hook's shoulder, lowering his voice slightly. "Do you think you can get her to remember?"

The pirate took a deep breath, allowing the surrounding smell of pine to fill his lungs, then grabbed the vial again before peering over at Robin.

"I have to, mate. She's the only one who can help Regina before she faces off against this evil hag."

Hook drew the vial up to his lips with a smug expression on his face.

"Then the War of the Wenches can truly commence."

He noticed Robin shoot him a glare before drinking the potion, pausing afterward as if waiting for a visible effect. After a few seconds, both men relaxed and Hook turned to face Robin again.

"Well Jones, good luck to you. Our fate rests in your han- well.. rather, on your shoulders."

Hook reached out and accepted his hand, giving Robin a lazy grin.

"Then have no fear, my friend."

Hook turned and walked a few paces to the edge of the town line, before he glanced over his shoulder and shouted.

"Please give my thanks to your betrothed for not poisoning me."

Hook didn't see Robin roll his eyes or the barrier shield turn a hazy purple, as he stepped over the border and into the darkness that led to their salvation.

* * *

_Despite the impending danger that seemed to surround her, Emma Swan felt like she was home._

_That was the first thought that came to her mind after being jolted awake by the crack of lightening outside. _

_Squinting, she allowed her eyes to adjust to the dimly-lit quarters of a certain pirate captain. She understood why the room was so familiar, having spent so many hours here before, but seemed to be struggling with the details of how she ended up here in the first place._

_Getting her bearings, Emma sat up and quickly realized it a mistake. A jabbing pain struck the back of her head and she winced, gingerly feeling a bump that had formed there._

_Ok, how did that happen? _

_Slowly regaining herself, Emma pulled her legs off of the bunk and onto the creaky wooden floor below. She took a moment to absorb her surroundings, noticing her jacket draped over a nearby desk chair, her boots sitting nearby._

_I don't remember taking those off…_

_Pulling both articles back on, she took a brief moment to recognize a certain scent lingering on her jacket- his scent. _

_Emma tries, again, to remember._

_It was likely that her and said pirate had too much to drink last night, as sharing rum was becoming normal for the two of them. But how did she end up on the ship without any memory of stepping foot there in the first place?Surely she hadn't shown up to his door already blackout drunk._

_Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by another crack of lightening, the rumble of thunder accompanying thereafter. The storm was getting closer._

_Standing up, Emma staggered as the ship lurched side-ways, its structure groaning under the crash of what must have been a massive wave. _

_Wait, a massive wave? __She wasn't just on his ship. __She was on his ship at **sea**._

_What the hell was going on?_

_Above, she could hear the frantic shouts of various men, but their words weren't distinguishable. It almost sounded like he had a crew of men up there._

_When did he have time to find a crew?_

_Even with the small fire crackling in the fireplace__, Emma had to reach out and brace herself on the smooth, glossy walls to find her way through the cabin. The ship swayed again, propelling her forward as her hand brushed against a brass knob that she knew to be the exit._

_Swinging open the door, it hit the hallway wall with a bang, gravity doing its part. As she regained her balance, Emma noticed the faint aroma of spice on her jacket again. _

_I'm going to kill him..._

_She stepped into the hallway, preparing to ascend the staircase to the top deck, but is stopped by a scream. It was faint, but desperate, and not that of a man. Although seemingly in the distance, Emma is sure that she had heard a person cry out, and for reason Emma felt that it belonged to someone she knew._

The buzz of the alarm clock was mind-numbingly loud, and Emma awoke in an instant. She reached out to silence the annoying device reading 8:15am, her daze having less to do with sleep and more to do with the aftermath of the recent dream she just had.

_Seriously Swan? A pirate ship…and the screaming, too? Where had all of that come from?_

Emma quickly racked her brain, trying to make a connection that would explain such an unusual dream. She and Henry had watched "Pirates of the Caribbean" a few weeks ago, but she couldn't see why it would be affecting her subconscious now.

Although more lifelike than any she ever had, dream was just one in a long line of unusual ones she's been having over the past year.

Henry had admitted to her that he's had similar dreams, but they were never frightening or overly bizarre. They usually involved his favorite fairytale characters, with him as the conquering hero.

Still, she couldn't help but wonder why it had started around the same time for the both of them, about a year ago. There hadn't been any major changes in their lives to warrant such effects, and it concerned her.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Emma stepped out of bed and pulled on her pajama top and matching pants. Shuffling over to her slippers, she allowed the cashmere lining to hug her toes, humming at the comfort they provided.

Yawning, she made her way down the hall to Henry's room. Emma rapped her knuckles against the wood, shouting to her son.

"Wake up, Kiddo."

As she turned toward the kitchen, she was surprised when his door opened immediately, his smiling face greeting her.

"Morning Mom!"

His enthusiasm was so contagious and she answered him with a smile of her own.

"Good morning. Well, that was fast."

Henry shrugged on his long-sleeved shirt as he moved past her and into the living room, the legs of his pajama pants dragging the floor.

"I was already awake."

Her eyebrows raised in surprise as she entered the kitchen, opening the fridge to get out the eggs and milk. Because it was Saturday, they were able to eat a little later, and the morning sun was now leaking traces of light into their modern apartment.

Cracking another eggshell against the bowl, its contents plopped in with the rest. Emma heard Henry turn on their Saturday morning play list, Lou Reed's voice reaching her ears.

She poured the whisked eggs into the hot skillet, the mixture sizzling instantly. Emma turned to see Henry watering the plants in front of the picture window, clouds looming in the distance. She couldn't help but smile, recognizing how mature he was becoming.

Despite having to grow up without his father, her son had blossomed into a bright and dedicated young man. The two of them had struggled at first, but he never wavered in his determination to help her. It seemed like he had figured out at a very young age that his father's absence meant more responsibility on his part.

She and Henry were alike that way. Although he hadn't grown up alone like she had, they both did not have childhoods in the traditional sense. Still, Emma had tried to make life as normal as possible lately. Weeks filled with movie and taco nights, ice cream runs on Sunday afternoons, and frequent trips to the amusement park on Coney Island this past summer.

In the sharing of Henry's joy at being a kid, if only for those few moments, she herself was able to enjoy the childhood memories that were denied her.

For the second time that morning, Emma was startled again, this to the sound of knocking at their front door. Henry glanced up at her from his breakfast.

"Someone coming over?"

Emma shook her head, her brow frowning in confusion. "No…" she replied. Josef wasn't supposed to meet her until tonight and surely he knows not to come over in the morning without a text or call first.

Another series of knocks, this time harder, and they sounded almost desperate. Her eyes widening, she bid Henry to stay at the table and headed for the door. Emma turned off the music on her way there and reached for the white-washed door, pausing a minute before turning the knob.

_Ok, Wow._

The man standing on the other side of the door should have confused her, considering she didn't recognize him and he was looking at her as if they've known each other for years. Instead, she seemed transfixed at how shockingly handsome he was.

His eyes drew her in first, blue like a June sky and bright enough to light the darkest of rooms. His thinly shaped lips were perfectly framed by a strong jaw line, wrapped in scruff. Emma has always enjoyed a little scruff on a man and this one was definitely not the exception.

Her reverie was interrupted, however, by a voice that was even more enjoyable as its owner's appearance.

"Swan," the word coming out of him in an awed whisper, like rough velvet.

_Oh great, he has an accent too._ She had always been a sucker for an accent. How does he know her name, though?

Emma quickly regained her composure and attempted to place him from somewhere.

Suddenly, he moved to brush past her and into the apartment. "At last-" His words are cut off as she quickly moved her arm out, creating a barrier between them.

"Whoa, do I know you?" He seemed taken aback, but only briefly, a look of understanding now rising onto his face.

_Did this guy really just try to come into my apartment uninvited?_

In his failed attempt, she had caught a whiff of him, the smell of leather and some kind of spice. And... was that alcohol?

_He's probably another drunk looking for money._

The man was staring directly into her eyes now, his voice louder and much steadier.

"I need your help- something terrible has happened."

_Well, he was certainly selling his sob story._

She let him continue, though, his hand now reaching forward to her slightly.

"Your family is in trouble."

Family? Her only family was in the other room munching on pancakes.

"Who are you?" Her voice got sterner, edging on threatening.

He answered like he had a secret to tell. "An old friend," he said. The man took a second to pause before continuing. "Look, I know you don't remember me, but…" he edged closer, his chest meeting her outstretched palm. Oddly she let him, her guard down for only a moment.

"I can make you."

Before she can react, his hand was behind her head, fingers lacing into her hair, and eliminating the small gap between them. As his mouth closed over hers, Emma had only a second to acknowledge the softness of his lips, warm and surprisingly gentle, contrasting to the roughness of his stubble.

Without giving him warning, her knee collided with his groin. With a grunt of pain that gave her satisfaction, he doubled over and slumped against the opposite hallway wall.

"What the hell was that?" Her voice displaying equal parts of baffled and offended.

_Yep, definitely alcohol on his breath. Just fabulous._

He actually had the audacity to look guilty. "Long shot," he managed to say, grimacing. "I thought you felt as I did."

_This guy was a piece of work, alright._

Emma shot him a death glare, backing into her apartment, and moving to shut the door.

"The only thing you're going to feel are the handcuffs when I call the cops."

He started to speak again, but she cut him off by slamming the door in his face. It took a few moments for Emma to collect herself.

Did that actually just happen? She's never seen the guy in her life, but his pleas were so desperate, the words he spoke almost genuine- like they've known each other a lifetime.

How can someone grab a stranger and kiss them like that, as if their life depended on it? The guy must be absolutely hammered, and yet…his scent. That scent was so familiar somehow.

"Who was that?" Henry turned to her, plunging a fork full of pancake into his mouth. His question had pulled her out of a daze and she dismissed the event with a shrug, trying to sound casual.

"No idea. Let's eat."

Throughout most of her breakfast with Henry, Emma wasn't able to shake the feeling that she was missing something. She had always prided herself on what Henry deemed her "superpower" of detecting a lie, or even when something was amiss. It certainly came in handy with Henry, as he tended to be on the mischievous side when he wanted something; a trait he got from both parents.

Neal. Henry was so much like his father that it almost scared her. Beyond the dark hair and big eyes, his facial expressions, and toothy grin, her son had Neal's ability to get you to see the world the way he did Whether you wanted to or not.

As much as it hurt to look at him and see the man who broke her heart over twelve years ago, Henry was a constant reminder that good things can come out of a terrible experience.

He was her happing ending.

All the more reason for her to figure out what the events of that morning meant and why she felt they were important somehow. The handsome lunatic dressed in black leather claimed they were "friends" before he had tried to molest her in her pajamas, but Emma's sure she would have remembered a face and voice like his.

The ding of the elevator brought her back to reality as her and Henry entered the lobby. They made their way to out into the street as she could feel the sprinkle of rain on her face.

"Are you staying with your friend tonight like we talked about," she asked him, as Henry extended the umbrella so that they could huddle under it.

"That's the plan. Levi says his mom is going to take us to that new laser tag arena," his face lighting up with excitement. Emma smiled and pulled her library book closer to her body, the rain coming down around them.

"You don't have to stay the night if you don't want to," Emma told him as her boot splashed into a puddle. "I'm going to see Josef's exhibit, and then we're doing dinner at 7. I won't be out too late."

Henry's pursed his lips in annoyance, his eyes lazily turning up to meet hers. "I don't want you to have to cut your date short to come and get me."

Emma did her best not to roll her eyes. "It's not a date, it's only dinner with a _friend,_ who I've known for awhile now."

Henry may have acquired some of her superpower ability as he gave her a knowing look. Emma kept her poise as she continued. "Josef has been working really hard on this project, and I want to show my support."

Her son remained quiet, the honking of cars and city noise surrounding them as they rounded the corner to where her yellow bug was parked.

"Besides, you and I still need to finish our _Star Wars_ marathon, remember?"

Henry's ears seemed to perk up at that, adventure being his favorite muse. "Oh yeah, that's right!"

They tried to take a trip to the library at least once a week, since Emma wanted him to enjoy reading as much as television. He also had taken a keen interest in fairytales lately, which could explain some of the dreams he was having.

Of course, that didn't explain _her_ dreams, but she was working that one out on her own.

Clutching one of her psychological self-help books on dreams and past memories closer to her side, she took the umbrella from Henry as they reached her car.

She had kept the vehicle despite considering selling it on many occasions because of its connection to Neal. Instead, she had decided that it held just as many good memories as bad ones.

Besides, Henry said it made her seem more youthful, which she was always happy to hear.

Unlocking the driver side, Emma slid inside the car, reaching across to unlock Henry's door. She settled in and reminded him to fasten his seat belt, before moving to put the keys into the ignition.

"I'm no expert, luv…" Emma's screech of surprise rang inside the car as she turned around to face the man who had kissed her earlier. He had a wide grin on his face, his previous seriousness now giving way to a smug demeanor, as he continued with a wink.

"But I do believe you should check the rear before setting sail- I know _I_ certainly do."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading. I just need to set up the back story in the first few chapters, but we'll get to the good stuff soon enough.**

**Next chapter: Hook takes on New York's finest and Emma makes a major decision. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own ****_Once Upon a Time _****or its characters, but it's fun making them do as I wish!**

**Rating: K-T for mild language**

* * *

Her instincts had Emma reaching her arm over Henry protectively, her eyes bugging at the intruder sitting behind them. "You again! How the hell did you get in here?" His previous innuendo had not gone unnoticed, and Emma inwardly wandered how far this guy was willing to go with his inappropriate behavior to get whatever it was that he wanted.

Unlike earlier that morning, his stance and features were hurried and desperate; the man was now relaxed and confident, his mouth twitching at the corners. "You might say I have a bit of experience in the area."

Narrowing her eyes she briefly made a mental note that, she too had some experience in breaking and entering.

There was a playfulness on his features that almost scared her more than before. This behavior was familiar to her somehow, and she doubted that someone could be this relaxed with a complete stranger. That is, of course, unless he had an agenda…

"Get out of my car." He moved to argue, but she interrupted him before he can get a word out. "Did you not understand me earlier when I said that I would have you arrested?"

He quirked an eyebrow at her, raising his hand and waving it casually. "Now, now. There's no need to do anything rash, luv. I am merely here to remind you of who you are."

Before she could yell at him again, however, Henry chimed in. "Do we know you?" Emma glanced over at her son, his brow was furrowed in confusion, but Emma noticed a curiosity in his look that she couldn't miss.

"Indeed you do, Henry," the man smiling widely at him, extending his hand in greeting. Emma quickly moved to keep Henry from the gesture, batting away the outstretched hand, as rain pattered on the roof of the car above them.

The stranger, however, was not deterred in the least. "The name's Killian Jones, lad, and I'm a friend of your mother's and the rest of your family, for that matter."

Emma could feel the heat rising up to her neck and face, her patience wearing thin. "Look, buddy- I let you get away with quite a lot this morning, and you were lucky that you walked away from it in tact." She heard him mutter "mostly" under his breath before she continued.

"Now you've broken into my car, scaring my son and me to death. I don't know if you thought I was kidding this morning, but let me set the story straight. I don't have any family besides my son, I have never seen you before in my life, and I will not warn you again to stay away from us."

His smile was gone, but he didn't appear to have wavered in his resolve. Henry glanced between the stranger known as "Jones" and his mother, intrigued.

Emma tried to calm herself, and decided to try a different approach. "Listen, I don't have any money on me at the moment, so please just go and we won't make any trouble for you." _It's probably what he wants_, _a hot meal and a dry bed for the night. _Her instincts somehow argued against this theory, however, as Emma noticed Jones reach into his coat pocket.

She quickly jerked her arm back, keeping her and Henry at a distance, but Jones pulled out a set of keys and holds them out to her. Baffled as to how a homeless man owns any keys at all, Emma raised her eyebrows expectantly. "What am I supposed to do with these?"

The rain outside slowed to a drizzle and the windows of the bug were now fogged up slightly. "They are for an abode here in the city, Emma. This is a place that may shed some light on memories forgotten."

She smiled sarcastically at that, taking the keys in her hand, "Oh yeah? Ok, I'll play along. And just who's _abode_ will I be visiting?" Emma taunted him, jingling the keys in front of his face.

Jones seemed almost reluctant to say, his features completely serious now. He looked her straight in the eyes, and replied rather quietly. "Your old boyfriend, Neal's."

Emma was out of the car in a flash, slamming her door and jolting open the back one with a powerful pull. "Get out. _Now_!" Her heart was hammering in her ears, all the sounds of a bustling city, now a dull humming, herself oblivious to anything but the fury pumping through her veins.

The intruder made no attempt at placating her, seeming to have expected this reaction. Despite the wave of emotions and questions going through her head, she was still able to catch a glimpse of something written on the man's face. Was it pity?

Suddenly, she was yelling. "Did he send you? Did he?! How the hell did he find me? If he thinks for one second that he has any right to…"

"Mom?" Henry had gotten out of the car and was standing outside with her and Jones, an older couple now watching them from a bench a few feet away. "What's going on," her son asked her, obviously concerned. "Who's Neal?"

Her face softened then, her arm coming out to grasp his shoulder. "Kiddo, I need you to go wait in the car, ok?"

He hesitated, looking at the man standing next to her and back to his mother, making eye contact. Emma's heart broke from the look on her son's face, as she tries again. "Henry, please."

Pulling his head down slightly and slinging his green backpack over his shoulder, Henry turned and slowly made his way into the passenger's seat of her car. Emma looked back to Jones, taking a deep breath to maintain composure for her son's sake.

"Why are you really here? What does _he_ want?" She avoided saying his name, for fear that tears would follow, and she will completely lose her resolve. Once again, Jones looked at her hesitantly, then began to speak, his words coming out like waves- one after the other.

"Emma, Neal is in terrible danger, we all are. I'm giving you those keys so that you can go there and see that I'm telling you the truth. He and the rest of your family are trapped, and you're the only one who can save them. You and Henry must come with me to Storybrooke so we can assist Regina and help those who love you."

Due to the confusion and haze from the past two minutes, Emma had caught only a few words from Jones' speech. One was "Neal" the others "Regina" and "Storybrooke." Neal in danger? That must be a trick, and even if it wasn't, his safety was not her problem. He certainly gave no thought to her safety when he let her take the fall for stealing those watches.

Storybrooke? it sounded like some fictional town in a children's book. And who was this Regina? The name didn't ring a bell, and yet… has she heard of those names before?

"What kind of danger? And who is Regina?" Her voice came out monotone and unbelieving. The man had the desperate look again, one that Emma couldn't help but notice seemed almost genuine.

"I don't have time to explain the details regarding him now, but please- you must come with me, Emma. I can show you." He tried to grab her arm, but she jerked it away roughly, her voice growing loud again.

"Don't touch me! You have crossed a line, coming to my apartment and kissing me like that. Now you throw his name in my face, a name I never wanted to hear again. Who do you think you are, anyway?"

His hands were up in a defensive gesture, and Emma noticed for the first time that his left hand was gloved. Only his left hand, though, and it seemed almost stiff. Jones' lips were tight, but his face was calm, as if to show that he wasn't going to cut her off if she wanted to continue.

Above the confusion and anger, Emma acknowledged this sign of respect, as if he actually cared about her feelings toward all of this. If Neal really had sent him, he was probably getting paid to do it, with nothing to lose. So, then, why would he go through the trouble to make her feel more comfortable about the situation?

"Is there a problem, miss?" A police officer had approached them both, a group now forming around them and taking in the scene they had caused.

Emma glanced at the heavy-set, middle-aged cop, his dark eyes appraising Jones carefully as he spoke to her. "Is this guy bothering you?"

Jones looked affronted and went to retaliate, but she shook her head as to silence him and spoke. "No, officer, thank you. We apologize for the disturbance."

After a moments' pause, the cop didn't leave, and Emma smiled politely at him. "I can handle this; really."

She wasn't sure what Jones' motives were or what he might have said to the officer, but she didn't want anyone else involved in whatever was going on. Emma took a step toward Jones as the cop slowly retreated, still lingering a few feet away.

"I just did you another favor, now if you don't want to end up taking a ride with that cop, you'll leave now and tell _him_ to stay away from me and my son."

Jones was glancing at the officer, as if sizing him up, but then moved in closer to her, the corners of his mouth twitching. "Why didn't you turn me in, Swan," his voice was husky as he stared at her unblinking.

Emma honestly didn't know herself, but did her best to answer convincingly, as her heart quickened its pace at their proximity. _There was that damn scent of his again._

"It saves me a lot of paperwork and questioning." He didn't seem entirely persuaded, but offered no refute to the statement. Instead, Jones took a small step back and sighed.

"I do love a challenge, Emma, but you're making this even harder on me than the first time we met."

She let out a huff and shook her head in frustration. "I told you that I've never met you before."

He was smiling that annoyingly charming smile at her again. "You only think you don't know me. I figured that kiss would have set things straight considering how passionate our first one was."

Her face must have shown her lack of amusement because his expression became serious again. "Your and Henry's mind was altered and the memories you believe to be real, truly are not."

Emma did her best to try and take him seriously so they wouldn't cause a scene, but her patience was nearly gone.

"What? Mind alteration? You're going with mind alteration? Really?"

He edged his way toward her again, slowly, looking at the officer behind her. His voice was low. "It has been a year, almost to the day, that you and Henry left Storybrooke and lost your real memories. Regina gave you new ones so you and Henry could have a good life together."

_Wow, this guy must be fresh out of a mental institution. New memories? That's not even possible. _

_And yet...a year ago. A year ago, right around the time her and Henry started having the strange dreams. He couldn't possibly have known about those._

_"_I know it sounds mad, luv, but think about it. Have you been having odd visions? Trouble remembering specific details of you and your son's past beyond a year ago? Regina said it may be a side effect, like a being in a fog with no clear direction."

This made Emma stop and look at Jones, attempting to use her special power to detect if he was lying. He had seemed genuine all this time, but ultimately he must just be a lunatic doing Neal's dirty work for him.

"I believe that _you _think this is all real."

"Believing has always been difficult for you, lass, especially in the matter of believing in yourself." Emma frowned at him, but he merely gave her a soft smile. "And that's where I come in."

"Just because you believe in something, doesn't make it true." Though Emma has always lived by that philosophy, this Jones guy kept giving her a reason to want to believe him. It was if he knew her so well.

_Or knew someone else who knew her well. Like Neal._

Suddenly Jones reached a hand into his coat once more, keeping his eyes on Emma's so not to frighten her.

Behind them, she could hear the officer's warning. "Sir, please keep your hands where I can see them."

He had already pulled out a small vial, though, and shooting a glare at the cop, held it out for Emma to take. She slowly took the strange object, her curiosity getting the better of her, and kept eye contact in order to detect any foul play.

"What is this?" She turned the small, blue vial in her hand, examining its contents. There was a cloudy, liquid substance inside which was confined by a tiny cork at the top.

"That," he said matter-of-factly, "will allow you and Henry to get back to us."

She blinked at him, unsure of where he was going with this. Was this some kind of drug? Maybe Neal wanted her knocked out so he could take Henry away, as she'd always feared he might do if he ever found out about their son's existence.

Suddenly on alert again, Emma shoved the vial back into Jones' hand. "Just stay away from me." In seconds, the officer was beside them once more.

"Alright pal, you had your chance. Let's go."

Jones' face contorted into confusion at her sudden outburst, then anger when the cop suddenly grabbed him under the arm. "Unhand me, guard. I have no intention of harming the lady."

Wrenching himself free, Jones faced her again, his voice low. "Emma, please. Do as I ask, and go to 854 W. Madison Ave. You'll see that I speak the truth about Neal."

The officer was suddenly joined by a younger man in uniform, who Emma guessed was his partner. "You alright, Mitchell?"

Emma looked at the middle-aged officer and now noticed his name plate with A. MITCHELL inscribed on it, as he struggled to calm Jones down. "Yeah, this guy won't leave her and her kid alone."

This only seemed to anger Jones more. "Bloody hell, man, I would never do anything to her or the lad."

His voice was loud above the murmuring crowd, as Emma backed away from the three men. "Do you have any weapons on you, sir? Any drugs?"

She was continued backward slowly, no one seeming to notice but Jones, who now had the younger officer pulling out something from his coat pocket.

"Look what we have here," he says to his partner. He holds up a shiny hook, rather sharp at the end that was attached to a mount, which seemed to be made to go over one's hand. Emma's eyes widened in shock, letting her mind wander as to what he needed something like that for.

"Why do you have this?" The younger officer asks him accusingly, seeming to read Emma's mind.

"I've had it for centuries, mate." Jones paused as if to consider containing his next words, but continued anyway. "What else am I supposed to scratch my arse with?"

The two officers exchanged looks, pausing a moment, before erupting into laughter. "How about that, Robertson? It appears we've apprehended Captain Hook."

Jones whips his head around to meet Mitchell face-to-face, a wry smile spreading over his face. "So you do know who I am, then?"

The two men laugh harder at that, Robertson pulling the hook over his hand mockingly and waving it around. "I'll make you walk the plank before reading you your rights!"

Jones didn't appear amused, realizing now that they were having a laugh at his expense. He moved in closer to Mitchell then, his voice becoming sarcastic once more and the words came out in a lazy jeer.

"I do hope your king isn't paying you too much to stand around like the ruddy morons that you are."

Mitchell's smile was suddenly gone and nodding to Robertson, he grabs Jones' one arm, his partner grabbing the other.

"Wise cracker, huh? Let's see how funny you think spending a night in jail is, _savvy_?"

Jones turned to face her one last time, imploring her to understand, as he is dragged toward the patrol car. "Emma, please. I'm trying to help you."

Despite murmuring insults at both officers, Jones' body language portrayed that of a broken man.

Although she felt slightly guilty for the guy, Emma was happy to see him gone, still uneasy about the strange liquid substance in the vial and the sharp hook in his coat.

What are the chances that she would have a dream about being on a pirate's ship, and this mysterious man shows up posing as Captain Hook?

Looking down at the keys still clutched in her hand, Emma was surprised he had let him talk as much as he had. He was obviously crazy, but Emma was starting to question whether she, herself, was losing her mind for nearly believing it.

Regardless, if this is Neal's' doing, perhaps Jones will tell him to back off. Perhaps he may even lie to him and make it seem like they couldn't be found. Jones did appear to sympathize with her at one point, though there was probably less chance of that happening, now that she had allowed him to be taken into custody.

Suddenly remembering Henry, Emma walked back over to her car, and got into the driver seat.

"Is everything ok?" Her son's voice was filled with concern, but not fear, she noticed proudly.

"Yeah, Kiddo. We're gonna be just fine." Taking a deep breath and looking at him unblinking, Emma said the words she had been dreading for over twelve years.

"We need to talk about your father."

* * *

**A/N: Review/follow please. This will be a multi-chapter story, updated every Sunday until the show is back in March. CaptainSwan moments to come, with traveling to other lands in the works. Rating may change also. **

**What do you think will happen next?**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks to all who are following so far; I appreciate the support. An extra big thank you to "Liz" for posting my first review :)**** This chapter is short, but the next one will be much longer. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own ****_Once Upon a Time_**** or its characters, but I enjoy making them do as I wish!**

**Rating: T for mild language**

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Chapter 3

Emma wasn't sure what was worse, the look on her son's face when she told him his father was a liar, a thief, and had abandoned her, or the fact that Henry had actually talked her into going to Neal's apartment afterward. He had begged her to take him over there to meet his father, despite everything she had told him.

This was insane. Even if it was her ex's current "abode," as Jones had put it, she had promised herself never to see Neal again unless absolutely necessary.

After all, Emma had never needed to find Neal to get access to his medical history for her son's sake. In fact, come to think of it, she couldn't recall a time when Henry ever even needed medical attention.

Recent events had made her think twice about what Jones had said regarding her and Henry's memories not being real. She had concluded that the handsome, homeless guy who thinks he's a pirate captain was a madman. Well, that's because he obviously was.

Still, when she tried to remember specific details about Henry's childhood: his first word, his favorite toy, their first vacation, anything specific about their past- she couldn't. Emma spent the entire drive over to Neal's apartment trying to prove Jones incorrect, but any details about their past before a year ago were a blur.

Perhaps that's why she was now standing outside a grungy apartment building in the Upper East Side. Well, it was certainly not as modern and impressive as most of the other buildings in the area, and Emma took a quick second to contemplate how he could even afford a place like this. Maybe he was holding the actual tenant hostage, and using it to spy on them, since they lived only a dozen blocks away. _Not even a dirt bag like Neal is capable of that, surely._

She unlocked the rod iron gate with the keys Jones gave her and stepped inside cautiously. Emma's boots clanked along the old checkerboard floor of the small lobby and she did a quick scan with her eyes to detect any foul play.

She knew that Jones was in custody, but there was a chance that this was an ambush or Neal had other accomplices. Emma was glad to at least have her pepper spray with her, as owning a hand gun was out of the question for an ex felon. _Of course this was all thanks to said dirt bag, who she was about to come face to face with._

No matter how she felt about this, Emma had decided that Henry was to stay in the car and wait until she saw what they were dealing with. It could be that Neal just wanted to meet Henry and try to weasel his way into their lives.

Emma wished she could keep her son as far away from him as possible, but this wasn't about her feelings anymore. If Henry had to face the man who forced him to grow up without a dad, then he would do it on her terms, without being blindsided.

She trudged up the stairs leading to the fourth floor, and the sound of her steps reminded Emma of the ship she had dreamt of earlier that morning. She hadn't thought much more about the dream, but after hearing Jones refer to himself as "Captain Hook," she wondered what a coincidence it was that she had dreamt of a ship the same morning the pretend pirate showed up on her doorstep.

_Focus Emma. Let's just get to the bottom of what Neal is up to and make sure he can never hurt you or Henry again._

Emma made her way down the puke-green walls that had been worn down over the years, splintering in many spots as if a woodpecker had done a number on them. She scanned for the apartment number on the key ring. #407.

She could hear faint the murmuring of the other tenants over the quiet and decided that she should probably start this conversation with Neal by yelling, in case he was planning something. If she was lucky the police would show up and Henry could see, first hand, what a loser he was.

_That would break Henry's heart, though. _The same way Neal broke her heart, except this time she could control the outcome_._ Henry will most likely get hurt no matter what, but Emma knew she couldn't hide from her past forever. Her son deserved to know the truth, regardless of the cost.

Finding the right number, Emma stopped outside the door and took a quick look around for anyone else who may be in the hallway. Reaching into her pocket, Emma wrapped her hand around the pepper spray and braced herself to come face to face with the man she swore never to see again. She took a deep breath and knocked.

The few seconds of silence that proceeded were some of the longest seconds of Emma's life, outside of the ones after the cop had told her that Neal was gone for good, left her and threw away their dreams of a family in Tallahassee. She waited a minute or so, trying to control her breathing all the while, and decided to knock again.

Nothing.

For all she knew, Neal had seen her coming and was preparing on the other side. She put her finger on the trigger of the pepper spray and took a hesitant step forward. Placing her ear to the door, Emma held her breath and listened for movement.

"Can you hear him in there?"

Emma's feet actually left the floor and she nearly fell over in surprise. Turning to face her son, she kept her voice a hushed shout. "Henry, what are you doing here?! I told you to wait for me outside."

"Do you really think I'm going to sit in a car when there's a chance for adventure?"

Emma scowled at Henry, realizing that his stubbornness and thirst for danger had come honest, from both his parents.

_What the hell was she getting them into?_

"How did you even get past the gate without the keys?"

Henry grinned mischievously, and Emma saw his father in him at that moment. "I told some lady who lived here that I was locked out without a cell phone."

Emma shook her head. "Kiddo, we agreed that it wasn't safe for you to be here. I'm not sure how he's going to react since we didn't tell him we were coming." Emma didn't want to share her concerns of foul play on Neal's part to Henry, since the thought of being kidnapped might scare him.

"I know, but if he sees me it might make him feel less threatened."

Glancing over at Henry, Emma made another mental note of how mature her son had become. So mature, that sometimes she felt like the child being parented. He had a way of being the voice of reason sometimes, and Emma had to admit she wasn't currently in the most reasonable state of mind.

"Besides," he continued, "you'll need a look-out now since he's obviously not in there."

"A look-out for what?"

Emma could hear a couple chatting at the end of the hallway as they turned to go down the stairs, their footsteps echoing faintly. Suddenly, she understood his meaning.

"Oh no. No way! We are not going into the apartment without him being here. My breaking and entering days are over." Emma winced at that last comment, knowing that she hadn't given him all of the details of her and Neal's past exploits.

Merely raising his eyebrows at that, her son pulled the keys out of Emma's hand and moved around her to open the door.

"Hey! I mean it, Henry. What are we supposed to do if he shows up while we're in there?" Pulling the keys back out of his hand, Emma put both hands on her hips in exasperated defiance.

"Yeah, that's kinda what I meant by me being your look-out."

She was taken aback by that, frowning slightly at her son. "You're telling me that you aren't dying to see inside your father's apartment?"

Henry seemed conflicted a moment, but shook his head. "No, you need someone here to watch out for you. I'll get to see inside eventually, and hopefully he'll want to show me around then."

Her heart broke a little more at the hope in his voice and she tried not to show the sadness on her face, nodding slightly at Henry, who continued.

"I'll stay out here and if I hear anyone coming, I'll just kick the door with my leg." Henry demonstrated, kicking the door casually as if waiting on a bus or train.

Emma was flabbergasted.

"How do you know about _that_?"

He had done the exact move that Neal showed her how to master when they used to break into cars and once, even an abandoned warehouse.

Henry seemed to consider that deeply for a long moment, somewhat lost in thought, but then shrugged. "I dunno. I think you taught me."

Emma racked her brain quickly, but she couldn't remember that taking place. Why would she ever teach Henry to deceive others when that's what she had wasted so much of her childhood doing? Another unexplained memory she couldn't recall, and she was sure this was something she would remember.

"Come on, mom. We're wasting time out here. Just go in and make sure it's his apartment, and then we'll know that Killian wasn't lying."

"Killian? Who's Killian?"

Henry rolled his eyes and sighed. "Killian Jones. The man in black who gave us these keys."

_Oh, right. The deranged pirate-wanna-be who got us into this mess._

She took another few seconds to let her mind mull over that name. Killian Jones. _Killian. _Suddenly, the name meant something more to her, but she didn't understand the importance. Why hadn't it triggered any pause when he had said it in the car? It obviously stuck in Henry's psyche.

"Ok, let's do this." Henry nudged her forward impatiently, and Emma put the keys in the door knob. "Just go in, look around, and I'll be out here waiting."

Emma looked over her shoulder and then slowly pushed the door open, its hinges screeching loudly in the quiet hallway. Stepping inside, she turned to shut the door, her son's curious eyes peeking through the gap as the door shut with a click.

There was little doubt in Emma's mind that this apartment belonged to Neal. She waited a moment, allowing her legs to come to a halt as her eyes took in the surroundings.

It wasn't very large, a studio, which didn't surprise her considering he was living in a very expensive area of the city. Faint stains covered areas of the dark- painted walls, and he obviously hadn't done anything to hide them, which only further confirmed the apartment belonged to her ex.

Besides a small couch and coffee table, there wasn't much in terms of furniture. The extremely tiny kitchen was cramped in the corner, with only a sink and half-sized oven for use. Random vintage signs and posters were put up in a small attempt at home décor, and the lamp on a side table provided the only light source in the dark room.

Emma flipped it on and noticed, right away, the layer of dust on the table below. _Guess he couldn't afford a maid._

The creaks coming from the hardwood floor echoed in her ears as Emma slowly explored the living space. She ran her fingers over the worn covers of the books sitting on a rickety shelf, stopping on one particular title.

_Bicycle Thieves_, Luigi Bartolini. Emma raised her eyebrow, recognizing the novel that had been turned into a mid 40's film. She and Neal used to borrow the video from the public library and watched it together on the TV and VCR they provided for "research."

The film's neorealism was what drew the both of them to the story, having been surrounded by poverty most of their lives. But Emma enjoyed the dynamic relationship between the father and son, as it provided comfort to her to know that not every parent/child relationship was a living fairytale. Somehow the film gave Emma hope that a family could be obtained over time; that life was what you make of it, not just the circumstances you're placed under.

Neal had never really loved the film himself, mumbling under his breath during the cheesy father and son scenes. Still, he'd watch it with her because he knew how much she loved it. That had meant so much to her then.

With a sad smile ebbing from her lips, Emma decided she had seen enough, acknowledging with certainly that this apartment was his. She placed the book back into the slot, and moved toward the door.

That was when she saw it.

Hanging in the window, swaying slightly from the wind blowing through the old pane, was a dream catcher: their dream catcher.

Her mouth fell open in surprise, as she slowly made her way over to the window. She couldn't believe he had kept this, having found it in a used motel room all those years ago, they had tied it around the rearview mirror of the yellow bug for good luck.

Emma swore to him that the native piece had kept her from having those nightmares that plagued her during the majority of her childhood. He always said it was his presence, and their love, that had cured her of them.

Those words had tortured her a great deal during her lonely hours in prison, since her nightmares did indeed return after he left, and she had neither him nor the dream catcher to comfort her then.

Lifting her hand to pull the catcher off of its hook, Emma lifted on her toes to reach the string that it hung from. Emma held it in her hand, examining it closely and letting the softness of the feathers flow over her fingertips.

'_You find something, dearie?'_

_Emma looked over to the man with thin, wiry hair and his brow was raised in expectation._

_She peered back down at the dream catcher in her hand and tried her best to look convincing. 'Nothing. Uh, it just looks like a dream catcher.' _

_'Yeah, well, if it's nothing, then why are you still holding it?' Seems like it will take more than a white lie to trick this guy._

_The man leaned over on the cane he was holding and looked her straight in the eyes. 'You're lying to me.'_

_Henry walked in between her and the man with an accent, asking what was wrong. She forced her son to go into the bathroom, and the man is on her again._

_'You're holding back. I want to know what, and why.'_

_Emma had started to shake, her fingers tightening into fists to calm herself. 'I'm not holding back.'_

_'Did he tell you something?' Emma turned her head to the side to try and talk him down._

_'Gold-' she started, but he cut her off._

_'Did- he -tell you something?'_

_Turning to look at him, she paused before replying, her hesitation only making the man angrier. 'He didn't say anything.'_

_'But you talked to him?' He was slowly wearing her down, and Emma could feel herself giving in. She couldn't let him know the truth. _

_'Don't put words in my mouth.' _

_He moved toward her slowly, like she was going to suddenly take off down the hallway if he wasn't careful, yet he spoke matter-of-factly. 'You tell me, or I'm going to make you tell me.'_

_'You don't have magic here.'_

_He sneered at that, making her cringe slightly. 'Oh, I don't need magic.'_

_Suddenly, Emma's resolve was back and she narrowed her eyes, standing her ground. 'You really want to do this?' _

_'Don't push me,' his tone was calm, but his words her like a knife. Somehow, though, Emma maintained her composure._

_'Don't push, ME.' She inwardly gave herself props for keeping her words steady._

_'We had a deal,' he was pointing at her now and his face grew red. His hand slammed a laundry basket against the wall, and Emma could feel herself slowly backing away from him, now frightened. 'No one, NO one breaks deals with me!'_

_'Hey!' The volume of the shout should have surprised Emma, but it wasn't how loud, but rather who was yelling that caught her off guard._

_Neal stood in the door way, his stance defensive and his brow furrowed at the man beside her. 'Leave her alone.'_

_Gold staggered back, obviously affected by Neal's entrance. 'Bae…?'_

_Neal's face was stoic, but he nodded slightly in confirmation. Gold was walking to him now, his arm outstretched. _

_'You came back for me.'_

_'No,' he replied, his eyes cold. 'I came back to make sure you didn't hurt her. I know what you do to people who break deals with you.'_

Emma heard a rapping at the door and looked around the apartment, dumbfounded. What _was _that? She had never met the man known as "Gold" before, but his voice sounded familiar somehow. Emma had never had a vision like that while awake, and certainly not of Neal.

Neal. He had looked so much older than the last time she saw him. It was as if he had aged ten years… or twelve. If that was true, then this would have been something that recently happened. How was that possible? She would remember something like that.

"Mom, did you find anything?" Henry had opened the door and was standing in the door way, looking behind him to be sure no one was coming. He looked back at her expectantly. "So, is it his apartment?"

Emma hadn't quite come out of her trance, the dream catcher still in her grasp. She made her way over to Henry, and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, Kiddo. This is his place."

She looked at her son, who was now gazing at his father's apartment in a look of awe. She briefly reflected what it must be like to see the living place of your parent, who you've never met. Emma knew if she ever had that chance, it would overwhelm her for sure.

He noticed the dream catcher in her hand and took it in his own. "He keeps a dream catcher." She looked down at him and smiled slightly. "I hope that doesn't mean he has bad dreams."

Emma's eyes nearly filled with tears at her son's sympathy for his father, who had abandoned his mother and left her to rot in prison. It shouldn't surprise her that he would manage to worry about Neal's happiness, as that was just his personality; that was Henry.

He handed the catcher back to her and made his way over to the fridge. "You think he has any juice? I'm dying of thirst over here."

Emma went to stop him, but the kid already had his head buried inside, looking around for something to drink. She shook her head, biting back a smirk and walked over to him.

"Ew!" Henry jumped back and she steadied her son as he fell against her, his nose crinkled in disgust. Emma looked down into the container he was holding out to her and saw that orange juice was green. The expiration on it said 9/07/13. Hold on, 2013? Why would Neal let juice sit in here for over a year, unless…

Henry was rooting around in the fridge again. "Not much else in here, but it all looks rotten too." He took the juice from Emma and threw it back into the fridge, shutting the door. "This guy seriously needs to get to the store more often! Do you think he actually drinks it like that?"

"I don't think he's been here for quite some time, to be honest." Emma moved over to the sink and saw that the couple dishes sitting there were covered in mold.

How could this be? Surely if he had been gone this long the landlord would have evicted him and put in new tenants. It was possible that he was renting it to someone from out of town, but it didn't seem his style. Neal was always doing his best to lay low, never wanting any outsiders to be involved in his life.

Police sirens outside made her and Henry jump, and he was pulling on her sleeve seconds later, once again being the voice of reason. "We should probably go before someone sees us in here."

Emma pulled out her cell and noticed that it was already noon. They still needed to drop off their library books and have lunch before she had to take Henry to meet his friend at 2pm.

"You're right, it's getting late." Emma pulled him along, tucking the dream catcher inside her purse. If Neal was living there now, she wanted him to know she had been there. That way, it was clear that their meeting would happen on her terms, and she wasn't afraid of him. Besides, it was her dream catcher to begin with.

As they made their way to the door, Emma took one last look inside the apartment, making a mental note to get to the bottom of all of this. Henry ran ahead, sliding down the railing and whooping with glee all the way down.

If he was up to something, she would figure out what it was and put a stop to it right away.

Opening the gate, she glanced at the mailbox marked #407. It had a note taped to it that she had somehow missed on her way in, written in pen scrawl.

"Tennant not excepting mail at this time."

This was certainly not shocking for Neal, a man who was always hiding from someone. Still, Emma got the feeling that there was much more to this scenario than a loser trying to find his son and the woman he betrayed.

First a strange dream, Jones' appearance right after, then a vision (or even possibly a memory) of her with and older-looking version of her ex; there had to be some explanation for all of it.

And if for some reason Neal _was_ in trouble, that meant she and Henry could be too.

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**A/N: I want to get these guys to Storybrooke soon, I'm just setting up the back story. I want to hear what you all think! Next chapter: Emma receives a cryptic message on her date night out.**


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks for the follows and favorites, you all are fantastic! A special thanks to **WyldClaw, Jbirds212, Delylah, and Cynnx** for your reviews last chapter. Please keep them coming guys! This chapter is a bit lengthy since I'm building up to Emma/Hook interaction. I really like where the story is heading, so I hope you all will too. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own _Once Upon a Time _or its characters, but I love making them do as I wish ;)

Rating: T for mild language and innuendo

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Emma glanced over at the clock as she finished putting on her mascara, the green of her eyes shining behind her lashes. After dropping Henry off at his friend's house, she had gone back to her place and spent the last two hours watching reality TV and trying on various outfits during the commercials.

She had finally decided to wear the little black dress for dinner tonight, her usual go-to on any company cocktail party. This particular one hugged her curves to the waist, the bottom half flaring out slightly and coming to rest just above her knees. It was certainly feminine and sexy in its own right, but with an undertone of grace and strength; exactly her style.

The fact that she felt jittery had less to do with meeting Josef tonight and more to do with the odd events of earlier today. Although things took a stranger turn this morning, the vision she had from the apartment proved things were getting worse. Perhaps a night out was just what she needed to try and calm her nerves.

Spraying on the vanilla perfume Henry bought for her Christmas last year, Emma ran her eyes over the dress for the hundredth time that night. She didn't want to send the wrong message to Josef, but certainly wasn't afraid to dress nicely for the occasion either.

They had gone out to restaurants together before, mostly brief ones after work or lunch with Henry during their trips to the library. Since his art studio was right down the block from their neighborhood, it was just convenient for these impromptu meetings to occur.

Emma knew that Josef probably did have feelings for her beyond friendship, but something else beyond being hurt by Neal had always held her bacK. Despite how much she cared for and trusted Josef, there was always a feeling like she was waiting for something; for _someone _else.

The door bell rang and made her drop her mascara wand, the black makeup smearing across her lid. Swearing under her breath, Emma wiped it off with a tissue and then ran to greet him, her heels clicking across the hardwood floor. She quickly smoothed her hair over before opening the front door.

The dark-haired man stood tall and thin and wore his usual pale blue dress coat for the chilly October night. Josef's initial look was one of shock as he briefly scanned her up and down, but he recovered quickly and his face broke into a warm smile. Emma returned the grin as she leaned in to hug him.

"Hey there."

Since he was at least six inches taller than her, she still had to reach up to put her arms around him, even in her three inch heels. The scent of roses filled her nose, as he always kept one in the pocket of his jacket, the aroma reminding her of the garden he tended to behind his condo. Josef slowly pulled away and held her at arm's length.

"Emma, you look lovely."

Blushing at his words, she reached over for her wool coat, the red contrasting nicely to the black heels that matched her dress.

"I hope you're hungry," she smiled, "I plan on ordering the 2lb lobster tonight."

* * *

The interior of Ostria was just large enough not to feel crowded, but small enough to get the intimate feel of being at home. A fire roared in the corner as Emma handed the greeter her coat, and she allowed the warmth of the room to envelope her.

Josef slipped him a tip and they were ushered to their table in the back, away from most of the other guests. Emma could smell the roasted garlic and tomatoes wafting from a brick oven not too far away. He pulled back her chair and she sat down, giving him a grateful smile.

Josef leaned in closer to her, his arms stretching across the table. One of his hands came to rest upon hers and Emma didn't tense or pull away, having become accustomed to his affectionate nature.

"You didn't tell me what the occasion was, Emma. To what do I owe the extreme pleasure of an intimate dinner with the most exquisite woman in New York?"

She giggled and swatted his hand away, being used to his teasing but flattered by the compliment.

She really had no one else to talk to about her vision besides the therapist she had starting seeing six months ago, but if she told him about this, they'd be sending men dressed in white coats to her apartment.

Josef must have noticed the smile fading from her face, because his expression was now serious, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Is everything alright, Emma? Is it Henry?"

She inwardly smiled at his concern for her son and shook her head no. "Henry's fine, it's just that-"

"Hello there, folks. My name is Patrick and I'll be taking care of you this evening."

Emma and Josef both nodded to the waiter and settled into their seats as he handed them their menus.

"Now, I know that you two probably came back here for privacy, so feel free to shoo me away if I get to be too pesky."

Patrick waggled his eyebrows at Josef and Emma bit back a smile at the gesture. It looked like this guy was going to make their dinner quite interesting.

"Would either of you like to start out with some wine this evening?" Emma knew the answer to that one without thinking twice.

She nodded the affirmative to Josef and he ordered them a bottle of the 2007 La Massa Toscana Giorgio Primo, her favorite. They spent more time than she could count sharing a bottle while strolling through art exhibits or listening to Chopin and trading stories about heinous coworkers.

"Ok Sweetie, no problem. I'll go grab that and give you some time to look over the menus."

Patrick ginned widely, his teeth gleaming in the dimly-lit area of the restaurant. As he walked away, Emma took the opportunity to share her thoughts on their waiter.

"Well, he was certainly animated." Josef glanced over his shoulder at Patrick, who was keying their wine order into the computer.

Josef laughed softly and shook his head in agreement. "Perhaps he's also an artist at heart."

Emma glanced up from her menu at that. "How is the exhibit coming? I thought I was going to get to see it tonight."

Josef shook his head and seemed downtrodden at that. "Well, I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. We had a minor set-back with the _Avante-Garde_ piece."

Eight months ago, Emma wouldn't have been able to even understand what _Avante-Garde_ meant, let alone rub elbows with some of the most acclaimed artists and collectors in New York. It was strange to think that she really hadn't known him long, but he was one of the most important people in her life.

She and Josef had met at a local fundraiser that was hosted by the organization she worked for, the CCA or Center for Community Alternatives, which benefited underprivileged children and teens who were trying to make a better future for themselves.

During the dinner, she had made a comment about someone finishing a 2lb lobster and Josef had intervened thinking she had said "eaten like a mobster." They had a good laugh about it and used the 2lb lobster joke anytime they were really hungry.

Josef was still chatting on about the exhibit and he must have noticed her tuning him out slightly because he stopped and smiled at her. Embarrassed that she was caught, Emma blushed and began glancing over her menu.

"I didn't mean to bore you," he chuckled, "I just get so caught up in my work, as you know." Putting down his menu, he leaned closer to her again. "You were about to tell me what's troubling you."

As much as she wanted to brush it off, it was probably a good idea to get an outside look at this.

"Well-"

"Here we are… a bottle of our 2007 Giorigio Primo." Patrick had arrived with their wine and was already starting to open it. "And are we celebrating an occasion tonight?"

Emma glanced over at Josef, who merely shrugged. "No, this just happens to be her favorite."

Patrick nodded and continued turning the corkscrew. "Well, it's one of my favorites too, actually. No one does a red quite like those geniuses in Tuscany."

The bottle opened with a resounding _pop_ and the cork landed on the floor beside them.

"Oops, my apologies," he grinned sheepishly at Josef and bent to pick it up. He righted himself and began to pour the wine, Emma first.

"Since the lady chose, she may have the initial taste to see that all is in order."

Josef raised his eyebrows expectantly at her, as Emma let the spicy cedar-like aroma fill her nose. She closed her eyes appreciatively as the wine slid to the back of her tongue, the hints of blackberry coming through as it finished nicely with the well-balanced tannins.

She nodded and Patrick poured them both a glass each. "Have we decided on dinner?"

Emma ordered a Margherita Pizza and a side salad with Ranch. She just couldn't resist Ostria's home-style Italian pies. Emma would share one with Henry for lunch on the rare days they would come to this part of town, but tonight she was hungry enough to finish one alone.

"I'll have the Arrabbiata special, with shrimp please," Josef said, hesitating before asking. "Just how spicy is the sauce?"

"Oh this dish is remarkably spicy, not exactly for everyone's palate."

Josef merely smiled at that. "No, that's fine. I'm a man who enjoys spice in his life," he said, glancing over at Emma, then handing the waiter both menus.

Patrick raised his eyebrows at that. "I'll keep that in mind," he said, then slipped a wink Josef's way as he took the menus.

Josef needed a minute for the meaning to sink in, looking at the waiter in confusion.

Emma nearly choked on her wine at his reaction, covering it up with a small cough as she realized that Patrick hadn't been flirting with _her _before, but with _him_.

Josef's eyes went wide at Emma, finally catching on. His face was red and he quickly grabbed the wine glass to cover his embarrassment.

Patrick seemed to understand his discomfort, but didn't appear to be shocked as he gave Emma a "no harm done" look in apology and headed back to the kitchen.

Patrick hadn't made it to the back before Emma was already giggling at Josef, who was now trying to hide a smile, seeming to take Patrick's advances with grace.

"Keep laughing, little lady. Wait until the next person who flirts with you has a go, which shouldn't take too long with that dress you have on."

Emma cheeks grew hot at that and her laughing faded into an appreciative smile as she pressed the wine glass to her lips again.

"Let's hope he doesn't return for awhile so you can share what's on your mind."

Emma looked up at Josef through her lashes, deciding how best to begin. He knew about some of the dreams she had over the past year, but nothing had ever happened like what took place earlier today. Still, he was really the only one she could trust with this.

"I had another dream this morning."

Josef didn't seem surprised at all, sipping his wine before placing it back down on the table. "A bad one, like before?"

Emma had told him about the one of her falling through a gaping vortex of swirling wind after being attacked by some floating, ghost-like creature in a hood. She seemed to remember three other people in the dream with them, but the smoke from surrounding flames had covered their faces.

They all seemed to be trying to get the creature into the vortex, but somehow Emma had been dragged through herself. She woke to Henry shaking her before anything else had happened. That particular dream had scared her the most, as none of the other ones had been violent.

One of the two women had short, brown hair and Emma was sure she had seen her in some of her other dreams. They've had intimate conversations, always seeming to be supportive and comforting. She never mentioned her name, but this woman's face was the only one Emma could see in vivid detail.

The rest of the dreams were all strange and somewhat vague, people's faces always seeming blurry and covered in shadows. It was like missing pieces of a puzzle, none of them connecting or forming a theme. For the past few months, though, they seemed to be getting more vivid and detailed.

Josef was always willing to talk to her about them, despite the fact that she rarely had any insight to help make sense of these strange visions.

"Emma?"

He grabbed her hand again, this time more gently, edging on the side of caution. "Was it like the one with the hooded figure?"

She shook her head no as the fire crackled nearby. The soft glow of its flames gleemed off of the exposed brick walls around them.

"No, it wasn't as frightening as the last one." Emma pulled her hand back slowly, giving Josef a look of determination. "I was alone on a ship during a thunderstorm."

He raised his eyebrows, but didn't respond. She could hear the distant clattering of dishes in the kitchen behind them.

"I heard a person scream right before I woke up. It was faint, but it sounded like they were in real distress." Emma looked over at the older couple sitting two tables over to make sure they weren't listening.

Josef nodded for her to continue, rubbing his hand across his angular jaw line.

"Nothing else happened, but the oddest part about the dream was that it was more familiar this time. In this dream, it was as if I _felt _like I was there; like I knew where I was and had been on that ship before."

"What do you mean; like a memory?"

"That's just it; technically they all seem like memories, as if they came from a past life or something. I know it sounds crazy, and I never believed that any of them could be real… at least, not until today."

This had surely caught his attention and Josef's brow furrowed at that. "Why do you say that?"

_Oh, he's just going to love this part. _"Well, I had a visit from someone shortly after I woke up."

"A visit from whom?"

"While Henry and I were eating breakfast, a man I've never met before knocked on our door. He was dressed in leather, like a costume of some kind and he knew my name."

"A costume?" Josef was already sounding confused, and Emma couldn't rightly blame him.

"Well, he said that he knew me, and to be honest it seemed like he really did. The guy said my family was in terrible danger and that I should listen to what he had to say."

"And by family, he meant Henry."

Emma noticed the temperature in the restaurant seemed colder suddenly and she shuddered slightly.

"No, he told me that I have other family and friends who I don't remember. He claims Henry and I lost our memories, and the ones we have aren't our real ones."

Josef shook his head slightly in disbelief, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck as if to take the entire information in.

"The guy sounds like a complete nut job."

"That's what I assumed too, especially after he kissed me and then ambushed us in our car."

"What?! Did he hurt either of you?"

"No, no, nothing like that." Emma kept her voice steady to try and calm Josef. "I yelled at him to get out, but he said his name was 'Jones' and then he gave me a set of keys. He said they would take me to an apartment that might help retrieve my lost memories."

"Who's apartment?"

Emma steadied herself and knew that there was no turning back now. She'd have to tell him everything.

"Neal's."

Josef's eyes went wide, his mouth gaping slightly in shock.

"Henry's father?"

Emma shook her head in the affirmative but was cut off before she could continue.

"Ok! So your side salad is still on its way," Patrick sat each dish down and finished with a huff of frustration. "Apparently the chef doesn't understand that not every person who comes into an Italian restaurant wants Italian dressing."

Pulling out a hand grater he looked between Emma and Josef, oblivious to the scene he'd just interrupted. "Cheese for either of you?"

Josef seemed to be in a sort of a trance, looking at Emma with a mix of shock and concern, the angles of his face highlighted by the illuminated candle flickering beneath them.

"Yes, I'll take some, thank you," she replied. Emma gave Josef an expectant look and he finally came to his senses.

"None for me," he mumbled, picking up his glass to take a drink of water.

Josef knew a great deal about Neal, Emma having told him about it one evening a few months ago over a large bottle of wine. She had become emotional in front of him for the first time that night and his support earned a trust from Emma that she didn't give out easily.

She waited until after Patrick was out of ear-shot to continue.

"I had to tell Henry about my past, Josef. It was one of the hardest conversations of my life, but I knew I couldn't keep the truth from him now."

The look on Josef's face reminded her of the defeated one Henry had worn on his, after she told him about Neal. Even worse, Henry had asked her why she kept all of this from him, merely letting him believe all this time, that his father was some one-night stand who didn't want anything to do with them afterward.

Emma finally picked up a piece of pizza and took a bite, the oozing cheese burning her tongue slightly. Taking another sip of water to cool the small blister forming there, she continued.

"After how angry and disappointed Henry was with me, I couldn't deny him a chance to meet his father..." Josef looked up at her in anticipation.

"...So I agreed."

He didn't hesitate to respond this time.

"You took him to a strange building that some lunatic gave you keys for? What were you thinking, Emma?"

"Well technically he followed me there after I told him to wait in the car, but Josef, I to see what was going on. I thought maybe he was trying to get custody of Henry."

Giving her a dissatisfied look, Josef pulled plate toward him to dig into his pasta. "So what happened at the apartment?"

Emma is only half aware of Patrick coming over to fill their water glasses, taking a deep breath before answering once the waiter walked away.

"Well, it was definitely his place. I found a dream catcher there that we hung in our car years ago."

He went to cut her off, but she was faster. "I know for sure it was the same one; I'd know it anywhere. The oddest thing, though…"

_Ok, this is when I start to sound like I'm off my rocker._

… I had a vision."

Josef stopped chewing and looked at her with growing curiosity, prompting her to continue.

"It wasn't a dream like the others; I was awake this time. The moment I touched the dream catcher, I had a vision of me in that exact same apartment with some guy named 'Gold.' I think I was helping him look for someone, who turned out to be Neal."

After swallowing his bite, Josef took a drink and finally spoke.

"Neal was in your vision?"

"Not just him, but an older version of him, sort of what he would look like now. He appeared to know who Gold was, but he sure wasn't happy to see him there."

Emma could smell the pollen from the white Lilly sitting on the table between them and she felt a brief wave of comfort from her favorite flower, before it was replaced by anxiety again.

"The man named 'Gold' mentioned about him not being able to use magic in the vision and Josef, I didn't even flinch. It was like the word was a normal thing to the both of us."

Josef appeared to be letting her words sink in as he wiped his dimpled chin with the napkin, a bit of sauce lingering there. He took a few moments, and then sighed.

"Let me just ask you something. What did you honestly expect to find when you went there? A homeless man breaks into your car and you go to you ex-boyfriend's apartment on a whim?"

She raised an eyebrow in question, giving him a cautious look. "So you don't believe that my vision was real? You must think I'm crazy, then."

Seeming to sense that she was growing defensive, Josef's eyes softened and he leaned forward, speaking quietly.

"Emma, I think you need to see this for what it is. Neal found out about Henry somehow and now he's taking action to be a part of his life. That's why he sent that madman to ruffle your feathers, and maybe that's why you thought you saw something."

She swallowed her wine quickly to retaliate.

"I think there's more to it than that. Josef, I've been having dreams for a year now, the same amount of time Jones claims we lost our memories. Now I've had a vision of an older-looking Neal and another person I've never met. Why would I create these people in my head unless they were already there?"

Josef didn't seem persuaded, but then she didn't expect him to be as she wasn't entirely convinced herself. Emma started to think she was envisioning things that weren't there in order to piece all of this together. Still, her instincts told her different.

"Look, this guy Jones felt familiar to me somehow. He treated me with respect and his actions and words were almost genuine. I can't explain it, but there is more to all of this than I am seeing."

"Emma-"

"Oh my God!"

Emma strained her neck over Josef's shoulder, watching as a pair of young, brunette girls made their way over to them. They appeared to be no older than 19 or 20, and one of them looked as if she had just won the lottery. She didn't wait for pleasantries, but began rambling immediately.

"Oh, I can't _believe_ you're here! You're Josef Hartlemeier, the famous artist from the gallery on Solomon, right? My class went to your exhibit last semester, and I think your work is so awesome!"

Her voice reminded Emma of one of those chew toys for dogs and they both had enough make up on to decorate a birthday cake. She tried not to let her face portray the annoyance she felt and took a sip of wine.

"Thank you, that's very kind." Josef appeared slightly embarrassed, but maintained an air of politeness. "I'm surprised that you recognized me to be honest."

She let out a high-pitched laugh and Emma cringed.

"Well they had a portrait of you up in the exhibit and I remember being surprised at how young you were for such a talented artist." Emma was shocked to see the girl blush under all her foundation.

Rolling her eyes, Emma decided this was a good opportunity to escape. She excused herself and made her way over to toward restrooms. She could hear the girls squealing behind her and stepped under a brick archway, into the dimly-lit corridor near the door marked "Women."

Suddenly, a hand grabbed her arm gently. Emma was startled and looked over to come face-to-face with an older waiter carrying a covered tray.

"Can I help you?" she asked the balding man who appeared to be in slight distress.

"I have something for you," he murmured quietly as he extended the tray out to her.

Emma frowned in confusion, looking the man in the eye. "I didn't order anything else."

The waiter pursed his lips at that, taking a step toward her and nearly whispering his answer. "No, it was ordered for you."

"Well, I'm going to pass, thank you. Excuse me." Emma went to push past him, but the old man placed the tray in her path. His bushy brow covered the beady eyes beneath and he had an expectant look on his face.

"This is meant for you, Miss Swan."

The shock had paralyzed Emma for a brief second and she unconsciously reached out to take the tray. Not hesitating for a minute, the old waiter took off for the kitchen without a second look.

Glancing around and baffled at what had just occurred, Emma walked to the end of the hallway where the light shone more brightly. Taking one last look toward where the waiter had disappeared, she slowly placed the tray on a nearby table and lifted the lid.

Sitting in the middle of the tray was a small roll of paper. Once she uncurled it, Emma noticed that there was nothing written on it at all. It also appeared to be aged a great deal, the edges being torn as if ripped off in haste.

Emma flipped it over, finding no writing there either. She shook her head in frustration and went to throw the paper back on the tray.

Suddenly, she noticed small dots of ink appearing on the front, forming into what looked to be words written in script. She squinted her eyes in disbelief as the words continued to appear, one after the other.

Emma glanced around to see if anyone noticed her and then peered back down to realize that the words had stopped. The sentence was now clearly visible under the fluorescent bulbs.

_Blue light strikes and twice the Savior will deliver before the next storm._

The sentence was so cryptic, but how was it able to appear from thin air? Emma considered the possibility of some high tech, heat-activated ink. Why would this old guy go out of his way to creep her out, though?

Unless…Neal.

"Emma. Hey, I wondered what was keeping you."

She looked up into Josef's face to see that he was smiling.

"Thanks for leaving me with those hyenas back there. I don't think they were going to remove themselves from our table anytime soon, so I took the liberty of paying the check."

She must have looked as lost as she felt, because he was grasping her shoulder slightly. "Emma, are you alright? What's that you're holding?"

Emma shook her head and looked at him then. "Some weirdo waiter just delivered this to me on a tray. He was so odd," she observed out loud. "What do you think it means?"

She handed Josef the paper and awaited his reaction.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?" His brow was furrowed in confusion. Emma moved to stand behind him, surprise emerging on her face.

The surface was now blank as it had been before.

"Oh… well it did that for me too. Just give it a few seconds, it will appear again."

The two of them waited in suspense, Josef giving Emma a look of slight humor, probably thinking it was a joke on her part.

"There you are. I could tell you two wanted to be alone, but I didn't realize how hard it would be to track you down."

Patrick went to hand Josef the change and smiled at him one last time. "I wouldn't have to want to show up at your place with this."

Emma looked up at Patrick, coming out of her daze for a brief moment.

Josef responded with chuckle. "Keep the change. You've certainly earned it."

"Well thank you very much, sir." Winking at Emma this time, Patrick smiled wide and turned to walk away. "Have a wonderful evening, lovelies."

Shaking his head at their waiter in amusement, Josef looked down to the small paper again.

"Well I don't know what you saw there, Emma, but it looks blank to me."

She let out a frustrated sigh as she took the paper from him and placed it back on the tray. Josef went to grab their coats, returning with hers in his hand.

Emma thanked him for dinner as she put on her coat and gloves and then looked over to the table where she left the paper. Hoping the message would appear again, Emma decided to take the slip with her, but stopped suddenly. She was barely aware of Josef's hand coming to rest on the back of her coat.

The paper wasn't blank anymore, the writing now appearing as it had before. This time there were two new words, written in the same black ink. She gasped and nearly dropped the slip.

_Emma Swan_

Her eyes went wide and her hands begun to shake, as her words came out in harsh disbelief.

"That's not possible."

She was completely struck dumb, unable to move or speak. No modern technology could explain it and Emma couldn't deny the words were real, as she heard Josef react behind her.

"What the…?"

Suddenly she was desperate, almost wild in her movements, and Emma nearly sprinted for the exit. She pushed the glass door open, the gust of October air was like a splash of cold water on her face, but it did little to bring her back to her senses.

"Emma, wait. Hold on." She could hear Josef's dress shoes clicking behind her, but her focus was on the street outside. She scanned her eyes quickly, two blocks in both directions, and then moved to hail an approaching taxi.

The cab came to a stop in front of her and Emma reached for the door as she felt Josef grab her arm and try to turn her toward him.

"Emma, please."

Her breathing was ragged, her mind a fog-filled mess and she was only half aware of her surroundings.

"I have to find…I have to go." She could barely speak as the wind stung her already teary eyes. Her head was still facing toward the cab as she murmured into the night air.

"Emma, look at me." Slowly, she let his hand move her face toward his to meet his eyes. For the first time that night, she saw desperation in his features.

"I don't know what this is, but you can't face it alone. Let me drive you home and we will figure it out together."

There was a brief rush of comfort in his words, and then a sudden realization. Josef couldn't give her the answers she was searching for. Her head started to clear as she looked back at him, and when she gently pulled him into an embrace, Emma whispered into his ear.

"I'm sorry Josef, but you can't give me what I need."

Emma didn't look back as she turned to get into the cab, knowing that if she did, her resolve would slip and she'd let him talk her out of whatever she was about to do.

Slamming the taxi door, Emma gave the driver her address and plunged her hand in her pocket to find her phone. Dialing for the operator, she heard a woman answer on the other end.

"4-1-1 assistance, City and State please."

The cab driver was mumbling something about traffic being heavy, but she did her best to focus on the operator's monotone voice.

"New York, New York. 35th Precinct. Yes, that's right." She marveled briefly at her ability to remember a subtle detail at such a stressful moment.

The faint ringing was drowned out by her heavy heartbeat, hammering in her ears.

"35th Precinct, Sleary here." The man's tired voice made Emma wish she was safe and asleep in her bed.

"Yes, hello. I'm looking for someone you might be holding there. The name is Jones. Killian Jones."

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter: Emma rescues a hunky pirate from the clutches of New York's finest, and then shares a drink with him. Please leave a review; they help eliminate writer's block :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey there, thanks for reading. Your reviews mean so much to me and it's amazing how observant you all are! Keep the guesses coming, as it makes it more fun for all of us. We get our favorite duo together again, drowning in their sorrows :) Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Once Upon a Time _or its characters, but I love making them do as I wish ;)**

**Rating: T for mild language and innuendo (ala one sexy pirate captain.)**

* * *

It shouldn't have surprised Emma that she didn't get a minute of proper sleep last night. After confirming that Jones was being held there, she decided to bail him out in the morning, hoping to find out what he knew.

Henry had texted her during dinner, asking if she could pick him up at his friends at lunch time, rather than in the morning so they could sleep in. Relieved as she was that her son didn't have to see her in such a cationic state, being alone in her apartment had forced Emma to think about everything she had learned yesterday.

Stepping into the shower, she allowed the hot water to cascade around her body, the steam fogging up the sliding glass door. The mango scent in her shampoo filled the air as Emma lathered her hair into a foamy mound, but her brief escape was short-lived.

Emma still wasn't 100% convinced that she hadn't lost her mind. Beyond the vision and dreams she's had over the past year, she now had more concrete evidence to prove there was something beyond just images in her head. There was no reasonable explanation for the mysterious message that appeared on that slip of paper, but Josef had seen it as plainly as she had.

Josef. After everything he had done for her, Emma felt so guilty for pushing him away last night. He had tried to call her cell a dozen times and left her multiple messages asking her to call him back. She knew he hadn't come over to her apartment since he assumed Henry was there and he didn't want to scare him.

All the more reason for her to feel lousy for pushing him away.

Turning off the water, Emma grabbed a towel to dry off, the beads of water running down her toned arms and legs. Walking to her closet, she picked out an outfit that would portray confidence and determination, with a hint of flirtation.

Something told her it wouldn't take much for a man like Jones to get comfortable with her. If his previous actions, looks, and even tone of voice were any indication, Emma would bet he had a special talent for wooing the opposite sex.

Shivering at the thought, she pulled on a pair of dark leggings, smoothing them over her thighs and up to her waist. The black skirt she chose was cotton, but it fell about six inches above her knees. Her shirt was plaid, which reminded her of a school uniform, and gave her a sense of authority (which she needed.)

Emma grabbed the library book she had to return and threw on her favorite red leather jacket, the one she wore for days she needed a bit of good luck. She decided to skip breakfast, even though it was well past the morning and grabbed her keys while heading for the front door.

Jones might be used to getting what he wanted with his good looks and charm, but it was her time to get what she needed; answers.

* * *

In the interior of the police station reminded Emma of her time in Arizona, right down to the strong smell of bleach they used on the linens for the inmates. She had somehow avoided having to visit any correctional facility since she was seventeen, even in the line of work she was in.

Helping other children and young adults find a better future sometimes required Emma to visit foster homes, after school centers, and even hospitals. Detention centers, however, she did her best to stay away from.

Of course, this was just a small facility, primarily filled with drunks and petty burglars who needed to stay off the streets for a few nights. At the moment, Emma was only looking for one drunken burglar in particular.

_An annoyingly attractive and charming burglar, at that._

She walked past the large, rotund lobby, her boots echoing around her until she reached a middle-aged man sitting at a glass incased desk. Clearing her throat, she waited for him to notice her as he worked at a computer.

"Excuse me, sir. They told me to come to you. Are you the booking officer?"

The man glanced up at Emma over his glasses, still typing, and stopped when he saw her. She could read the name Sleary on his name plate and realized this was the same guy she spoke to on the phone last night in the cab.

He was giving Emma a twice over, and seemed to be enjoying the view. Smiling inwardly, Emma decided she must have chosen the right outfit for today's venture. She quirked an eyebrow expectantly and it seemed to rouse the officer from his trance.

"Can I help you, Miss…?"

"Swan. Emma Swan. I believe I spoke to you last night in regards to a man you are holding here."

His previous look of curiosity and amusement was gone in an instant and replaced by a frown that Emma noticed clearly, even with a glass wall between them. "Oh yes, I remember," he murmured as he reached for the phone. "It's about time you showed up."

Emma found the comment to be a bit on the rude side, but decided not to make any trouble. She never bailed anyone out of jail before, but assumed this wasn't the time to get mouthy.

Sleary pursed his lips and Emma noticed the ends of his mustache twitch in annoyance. It was odd how quickly his demeanor had changed in an instant.

"Hey, it's Sleary. I need you to bring the new guy, Jones, out for booking." He hesitated a moment, then raised his voice, making Emma jump a bit. "I don't _care_ Gaines. Just do it!"

Slamming down the phone, Sleary looked at Emma again and gave her a tight smile. "I assume you'll be paying the full bail amount in cash."

She cringed slightly, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

_Yeah, don't remind me._

"That's what you said on the phone, right? I've got it here." Emma placed her purse and library book on the counter and pulled out a stack of bills.

He appeared slightly taken aback for a moment, almost as if he expected her to complain, but then started counting the money immediately after she slid them under the glass.

Sleary was almost finished when he mumbled something under his breath. "Personally, I'd pay this much money just to avoid the guy," he shook his head. "Must be the accent…"

Emma opened her mouth to reply, but never got the chance.

"You were most certainly the highlight of my visit here, Officer Gaines" a familiar voice came from down the hall and Emma swung her head around.

Jones was accompanied by a stout, female officer holding his left arm and escorting him toward her and Sleary.

_God, how does this guy still pull off looking good after a night in the slammer?_

He had the air of a man who knew he was about to win a hand at poker, not yet noticing Emma standing only feet away. As he inched closer to Gaines, Emma was sure she could see the woman redden slightly.

"Be sure to hold on to these manacles, my dear, in case any other devilishly striking men get out of _hand_." Jones grinned widely at her, waving his one good hand in an attempt to make her laugh.

She bit back a smile and shook her head as she unlocked the odd looking cuffs that wrapped tightly around his forearm, just above both wrists in order to account for his missing hand.

Rubbing his arm after being released, Jones finally noticed Emma watching him and their eyes met. He seemed almost surprised at first, but quickly recovered with a lazy grin appearing on his face as Jones made his way over to her.

"It's about bloody time, luv."

Emma heard Sleary huff behind her and she narrowed her eyes at Jones. He merely shrugged at her in amusement, and then raised a brow in question. "How did you even know where to find me, if I may ask?"

"The patch on the officer's uniform yesterday had "35th PCT" and somehow I remembered seeing it." A humorless laugh left her lips. "You're lucky I even showed up here at all."

Jones turned back to Gaines and gave her a quick wink. "What did I tell you, eh? My Swan couldn't stay away for long."

Emma rolled her eyes and looked back to Sleary, sighing. "Do I get a receipt or something?"

The booking officer crinkled his face in disgust toward Jones, as Gaines handed him his belongings.

"Yeah, but there is a _very _strict no-return policy. Don't bring him back here again. Sign here."

Looking forward to getting out of there, Emma scribbled her signature and grabbed her receipt, then hurried past Jones toward the exit. "Let's go."

She didn't wait for him to follow, but rushed out the door and down the steps of the building, noticing a few officers standing outside to wait. Emma could hear them all whispering and making jokes about pirates.

_Great, an audience of admirers; that's all they needed right now._

Jones appeared at the door shortly afterward, still adjusting the gloved hand. Two of the officers started to clap and laugh, but Emma shot them a glare and they stopped.

Emma noticed Jones smirk at the attention, but he made his way over to her without saying a word to any of them. Maybe there was a chance he would cooperate after all.

"Swan, you're looking quite fetching in that attire, I must say." His eyes crawled over her body slowly, and Emma felt heat simmering in her chest, despite the chilly, autumn air.

_Don't start, Emma. You haven't even got to the questions yet._

She took a breath through her nose, lips shut tightly. "Do you ever come out of character, or does the charade provide all of the attention you need?"

Jones appeared to be briefly confused by her question, but took it in stride, stepping closer to her.

"The only attention I require is from you, Darling." His face was inches from hers and she could feel his hot breath tickle the side of her neck.

Looking around as she took a step back from Jones, Emma gave their audience a look as if to say "Do you mind?" and the officers made their way back to their posts.

Emma turned to face Jones again, her hands moving to her hips in frustration. Enough was enough.

"I want some answers, Jones, and you better not lie to me."

The same look of hurt that she had seen on his face yesterday was there again and Emma couldn't understand how a roguish guy like him could be flustered by her words.

"I have never lied to you, luv." He had a slightly subjugated look, but moved his hand to lift her chin and raise her eyes to him. "And I wouldn't try that on you, of all people."

Emma frowned and pushed away his hand, releasing her chin. "_What_ are you talking about?"

"You have a special gift, as I recall you telling me; one that allows you to detect dishonesty."

She froze, looking into his eyes as she used the very "gift" he was referring to on him now. How did he know about that?

Well, Neal could have told him, she supposed. Yes, and that's why she was here in the first place. Suddenly her resolve was back again.

"Tell me about Neal. Why are you working with him, and how did you get that slip to me in the restaurant? What does that message even mean? You really freaked me out last night, I…"

Suddenly his arms were around her, putting an end to Emma's rambling and enveloping her in warmth. Her first reaction was to knee him again and get her bail money back. In spite of herself, though, she slowly melted into his embrace and let her hands come to rest on his back.

"I never meant to cause you any additional distress, Emma. I understand that this is a great deal to take on all at once."

There was a comfort there and Emma could tell he wanted to make her feel at ease, which only confused her more.

_Who the hell is this guy?_

His rough stubble rubbed against the side of her head, and Emma could hear him sigh in content. He still had the same musk as before, a mixture of liquor and salty leather. This elicited a brief flash of her dream about the ship, and she slowly pushed him away, looking into his eyes with discretion.

"Why are you really here? I want to know the entire truth right now."

She kept her words firm but calm, despite the hundred questions assaulting her brain.

Jones took a deep breath, his face still serious, and he looked around to see he wasn't being watched. He pulled out something from his boot and she realized it was the vial of whatever liquid he tried to hand her yesterday.

"Where is your boy, by the way?"

She didn't expect him to ask that, of all things, but he was really trying her patience.

"That's none of your concern, now answer my damn questions!"

"Please luv, come with me to Storybrooke and all will be answered." He held the vial out to her slowly.

Emma narrowed her eyes at him, but took the vial carefully in her hand. She uncorked it and took a whiff, not surprised to find that it was odorless.

_It probably allowed him to drug his victims easier._

He moved his hand over hers, taking the vial and corking it once more. "Not now, my dear. First I need you to understand."

Emma shook her head in frustration and ran fingers through her hair, hoping to bring some clarity to her mind. Looking down the block a ways, she made a decision that they couldn't have this conversation publically and grabbed the vial from Jones, stuffing it in her pocket.

"Follow me. I need a drink."

She felt him coming up to walk beside her immediately, muttering under his breath. "It appears that some things never change."

* * *

Second Star Pub on Bleeker was the ideal place to meet someone under discrete circumstances. Though not dirty, this dive bar was dimly lit, small, and was only occupied by a few regulars, Emma occasionally being one of them.

She didn't have many girlfriends, but would occasionally drop by here on nights when Henry had a sleepover to grab a quiet drink without a dozen guys coming up to hit on her.

It was barely past lunch time, but she needed something to help ease the tension if she was going to persuade Jones to tell her what she wanted.

The smell of cooking oil and cedar wood filled her nose as some kid played pinball in the back corner, the machine clinking noisily in the quiet bar. She couldn't help but feel bad for the boy, who was now attempting to catch the attention of his drunken father sitting nearby.

Emma didn't recognize the bartender: a slim, young, red head who had a tattoo on the small of her back where the shirt rode up from her jeans. She noticed her name tag said "Brittany," and tried to remember if she had seen her there before.

"How ya'll doin' today?" Brittany drawled out lazily, catching Jones' stare and smiling wide.

Emma felt a twinge of annoyance she couldn't understand and ordered a whiskey sour. Rubbing at a worn hole in the wooden counter, she inwardly guessed Jones' order before the words left his mouth.

"Rum please, luv." He leaned over the bar and caught her hand with his good one. "And make it a double."

Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and when she swung around to meet his eyes, some of the pieces fell out loosely. Giggling at his touch, Brittany pulled a loose piece and tucked it behind her ear.

"Comin' right up, Darlin'."

_God, it's already starting. It just _**had**_ to be a female bartender._

Jones' rough voice was suddenly in her ears.

"I must thank you for releasing me from prison, Emma." Jones bit lightly into his lower lip and Emma felt her stomach flutter as he continued.

"I must confess, however, that I assumed you would have shown up much sooner. As much as I enjoyed being courted by a hefty, spiky-haired gentleman by the name of Bo-Bo, I was hoping to see your lovely face again before now."

Brittany had returned with their drinks and Emma asked to start a tab before diving into her drink immediately. Letting the fire of the whiskey burn away her senses, Emma finally relaxed.

"Can I get your ID?"

Emma looked at her in surprise, not used to being carded, but the bartender just smiled. "I'll need your ID if you're paying with cash or you can leave a credit card."

Shrugging, Emma reached into her wallet and took out the ID, then handed it across the counter.

"Hey, Hap-"

Emma noticed the look on Brittany's face and immediately stopped her before she could continue, waving it off. Emma turned back to Jones with a frown.

"After you kissing me and then breaking into my car, what did you expect?"

He shook his head in agreement, surprising her for a moment before responding. "Well, I admit it wasn't the most ideal first impression. Although, this was technically our _second _first impression."

Looking back over to Jones, Emma gave him a tight smile. "Oh yes, I forgot, you're still trying to convince me that we've met before."

Jones' gaze was on her now, his face impassive for the first time, and he didn't respond. The New York Giants game was on a TV above their heads and the announcer was clamoring away about a recent play.

Emma felt awkward under his stare and broke the tension by asking for a menu. It was nearly two, and she hadn't eaten anything today.

"You appear to be exhausted, lass. Are you alright?"

Glancing over the menu, Emma decided that she didn't want to admit to Jones that she hadn't slept, so she changed the subject to the very thing they came here for.

"How do you know, Neal?"

Jones blinked at her without responding and the downed the rest of his rum like it was water. Keeping his eyes straight ahead as if he was searching for the courage, he answered her.

"He's a friend. We've known each other a very long time."

Emma carefully watched his expressions for any sign of deceit. He waved the bartender over, this time without a smile, and continued.

"This isn't a ploy to take Henry away from you, Emma. This is about getting you back to where you belong."

"Ok and where is this "Storybrooke" you keep talking about? I've never even heard of it, let alone been there." She watched as Brittany walked over to refill his glass.

Jones smiled gratefully to the bartender and she interrupted the silence. "Did either of you want something to eat?"

Emma had almost forgotten the menu, but glanced over it quickly and made an easy choice.

"Grilled cheese, please."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jones furrow his brow in confusion at her order. When Brittany turned to him with an expectant look, though, he had already recovered.

"I'll have the same thank you," he mumbled to her.

The young bartender seemed to understand that there was tension in the air, merely nodding in the affirmative as she grabbed the menus and walked away.

Emma didn't waste any time and decided to take a new approach. Leaning over to him, her blonde curls falling forward over her shoulder, she forced Jones to meet her eyes.

"Just tell me everything."

He hesitated a moment, but then sighed deeply, curling his fingers gently around a lock of her hair. Jones finally met her eyes with an intensity she wasn't ready for and Emma involuntarily shivered.

"It's going to be difficult to understand, and even more so to believe, but you must listen to me."

Emma was relieved that he was ready to open up, even if what he had to say was nonsense. Much of what this guy has done and said to her over the past 24 hours was ridiculous, but somehow it felt right. That's what scared her most of all.

Taking one last drink from his glass, Jones began, his words tumbling out like an avalanche.

"You have been living a lie for almost a year now, you and Henry. The world you believe is a fairytale fantasy is actually real and you're a part of it. Your parents were forced to give you up as a babe for the safety of their kingdom, because you are the savior who was meant to deliver them; a product of true love."

The unblinking stare that Emma gave him must have portrayed her disbelief, because he sighed and took another drink. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"I know that doesn't make sense, lass. I wouldn't believe it either, if my memory was taken from me and a madman showed up with such a tale. But Emma," his hand came to rest on hers, his calloused fingers wrapping around hers warmly, "I swear to you it's the truth."

Much of what he had said was a blur once she heard the part about a fairytale. Her parents lived in a kingdom and she was a product of true love? It was even more outrageous than she imagined, and nothing had prepared her for it.

More than anything else he had said, though, the part about her being a "savior" resounded the most. That's the same word that had been on the slip of paper from the restaurant, before her name had appeared shortly thereafter.

"So it was you," she mused out loud. "You sent that waiter to give me a slip of paper. Did Neal tell you to do it? How the hell did you even get the words to appear like that? What did the message mean?"

Jones lowered his voice to calm her and she could hear the two guys sitting next to them cheering over the game.

"What slip of paper? To what message are you referring?" His hand was now grasping her hand, the cold, brass rings on his fingers contrasting to the heat between them.

Emma's breath was ragged and she barely noticed the bartender coming over with their food. This guy actually had the audacity to lie to her after she gave him a chance to explain. Emma's back went rigged and she shoved his hand away.

"Don't lie to me, Jones. I know you sent that message. Who else would it be after what you just told me?"

Brittany appeared at their side and Emma peered over to her, slightly embarrassed at the outburst. The bartender looked between her and Jones, setting down their plates.

"Do either of you need anything else?"

Emma was already moving to get her purse and coat. "Yes a check, if you could. I'm going to take this sandwich to go also."

She wasn't positive, but Emma thought she saw the waitress bite back a smile. It didn't matter, though, because she was livid. This guy was not only stalking her, but had lied to her face more than once.

"Emma-"She had gotten to her feet in an instant and her hand was up in front of his face, cutting him off.

"Listen, Jones…if that's even your name. I don't know what you and Neal are planning; whether you're trying to make me lose my mind or what, but I don't need some drunken Disney drop-out telling me lies and wasting my time. You can tell him that I'll get a restraining order if I have to."

"Whoa, whoa, easy Darling. Calm your nerves."

_"__Don't_ call me 'Darling'," she snarled at him, pointing his finger on his chest. "I don't know what he's paying you, but I promise that it won't be worth it after I get the law on your ass."

Brittany had returned with their food and check, hesitating on whether to pass her or Jones the bill. Emma saw him pull a few gold coins out of his pocket and she quirked an eyebrow.

"Do you take Doubloons, lass? I've been having such a difficult time paying for anything in this wretched land."

The bartender sniggered and placed a hand on his, shaking her head in amusement. Emma wasn't impressed, frowning at him and pulling out her wallet. To her surprise, Brittany put her hand up and gave Emma a smile.

"This one's on the house, folks."

"Thanks," she muttered back, still throwing a ten on the counter for a tip. "I'm out of here, Jones."

Before reaching the door, he caught her arm.

"Emma, I told you before, I'm not working with Baelfire against you. He's in danger like the rest of your family. Besides, after what I did to him all those years in Neverland, I need to ensure he survives this."

An alarm went off in her mind, and Emma stopped trying to struggle out of his grasp.

"What did you say?"

He quirked an eyebrow at her question, then nodded his head. "Indeed, I did say 'Neverland.' I know that's just another bit of rubbish you won't understand, but-"

"No, what did you just call Neal?"

Jones looked at her in surprise, but then she saw understanding appear on his features.

"Baelfire. That was his name in another land, his birth name. Although, his parents called him 'Bae.'"

Everything seemed to stop, and Emma felt herself stumble back in disbelief. _Bae. _That was what that man Gold had called Neal in her vision.

No one could have possibly known that. She hadn't mentioned that part to anyone.

_My God._

"Emma?" His hand slowly rubbed up her arm, and it created a tingle that she wasn't sure whether it was from his touch or her revelation.

"Emma, luv, do you remember something?"

The time had come for her to accept that there was some truth to what this man was saying. Emma could no longer deny there were things happening that she couldn't explain. Somewhere and at some point they had met, and there was much more to her life than she knew.

She slowly looked from his hand holding her arm to his eyes and the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"Meet me at my apartment in an hour. Henry and I will be ready to go. We're going to Storybrooke."

The elated smile on his face almost brought one to her own as Jones looked like he just hung the moon.

"That's the right decision, lass. You will not regret it; I'm truly in your debt."

Shaking her head and prying herself from his grasp, Emma heading for the exit again, this time mumbling over her shoulder.

"Yeah, well you already owe me $600 for bailing your sorry ass out of jail."

Emma heard his dark chuckle behind her and as the door shut, she could hear the teasing in his voice, causing her to roll her eyes.

"I'm quite certain I can find a way to make it up to you, luv."

* * *

"I can't believe we're from a _fairytale_ world! Oh man, I knew I had it in me to be a knight. The way I can ride my bike without holding the handlebars; I'll be jousting in no time."

Henry jumped off the bed, the springs creaking in protest, and pumped his fist for good measure. Emma threw another sweater into her luggage bag and shook her head in mild amusement.

"Now, remember what I said. A lot of what Jones has told us is completely ridiculous, so don't get your hopes up." Henry was half way to his room before he turned around.

"Yeah Mom, but how can you deny he's telling us the truth after what you saw in the apartment?"

Emma had told Henry about her vision and the part about Neal being called "Bae," but omitted telling him of the odd piece of paper she got in the restaurant. Jones claimed he didn't know anything about it, but she wasn't convinced and didn't want her son to be scared by the cryptic message.

"We're only going to this town in Maine to find out more on Neal."

Emma knew that wasn't the complete truth, but still wasn't ready to admit that she believed in magic or fairytales being real.

Zipping up her suitcase, she yelled into the other room. "You better get a move on, Kiddo. Jones should be here in about fifteen minutes."

On cue, the doorbell rang and Emma made her way to the front door. "Hurry up, Henry."

She opened the door and wasn't surprised to see a giant smirk on the man's face. Emma noticed Jones was still wearing what he had on yesterday and she quirked an eyebrow, but decided not to comment.

"You're early."

He was leaning against the door frame and she noticed the gold pendants dangling from his neck, glittering in the hallway light. Jones suddenly closed the distance between them, his smirk fading and voice husky.

"Well no need to worry, Sweetheart. Coming _early_ is not something I'm generally known for."

As much as it irritated her, Emma felt her heart pick up its pace at the statement. Emma regained her composure, though, and crossed her arms over her chest with a frown.

"Alright, let's get something straight. If you're going to ride in a car with my son for seven hours, then you better cool it on the innuendos."

Jones appeared unfazed, but only gave her a courteous bow in response.

Before she could say anything else, Henry was dragging his gym bag into the living room.

"Hey Killian! Are you excited about our road trip? Don't worry, I packed plenty of snacks."

Emma saw the sincere smile appear on Jones' face and she was taken aback.

"Brilliant plan, lad. According to your mother, this is going to be a lengthy journey indeed."

Henry didn't waste any time, grabbing them both into the hall enthusiastically. "What are we waiting for then? Let's hit the road!"

Emma heard Jones laugh softly as they made their way to the elevator.

_This was going to be interesting._

Making their way out of the lobby, Emma pulled her luggage toward the main entrance, but was stopped by Jones.

"Allow me, my lady."

She shot him a disdainful look. "Acting the gentleman now?"

His hand brushed lightly over hers as he grabbed the handle of her suitcase. "I'm _always_ a gentleman, luv."

There was a brief feeling of déjà vu, similar to how she felt when he had kissed her, but she shrugged it away as Henry yelled back at them.

"Come on, guys! The car is parked in a tow-away zone."

By the time she and Jones reached the street, Henry was already opening the trunk to pack his bag. He left the trunk open for them, as her son leapt into the back seat.

Emma looked back over to Jones who was slamming the trunk door shut with a clunk. "Didn't you pack anything to take?"

A flash of gloominess crossed his face as moved to get into the car. "It's all on my ship, I'm afraid."

_Of course it is._

Jones pulled at the door and went to sit with Henry, but she stopped him. "Oh no, I want you in the front seat in case you try anything. And don't think I'm taking my eyes off of you for a second."

She felt another wave of familiarity hit her and she noticed Jones swerve his head slowly in her direction as if he had felt it too. There was an odd look on his face, like he was trying to figure out the meaning of a painting.

"Are you quite certain you don't remember anything, lass?"

Emma held his gaze for a moment and then looked away as she started the car. "No," she half lied.

He shook his head and muttered softly, although Emma heard him clear as day. "For one who can spot a liar, you certainly are terrible at deceiving another yourself."

Emma opted not to answer and noticed Jones struggling with his seat belt. He watched as she fastened hers and tried his own again, cursing under his breath.

Frowning at his confusion, she leaned over and clicked his into place, earning a wink from him in return. Emma tried not to think about what was going through his mind as she caught another whiff of the scent that was driving her as crazy as the man from which it came.

"Are you quite prepared for another adventure, luv?" Jones flashed her a dazzling smile and Emma's breathing faltered slightly as he lowered his voice. "It seems we were meant for this life, you and I."

She was _so _in over her head here.

* * *

**A/N: We knew he'd convince her, right? :) ****Next chapter: Henry and Hook bond on the road, Emma takes a leap of faith, and someone finally sees the light. Reviews are the strength my fingers need to keep on typing.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: You guys rock! I appreciate all of the follows and favorites, and LOVE hearing what you think in a review. A note of thanks to Delylah for the call-out on the reference to "Private Mills" in Chapter 5.**

**Just a clarification: I often use just the last names of other fictional characters from works that I enjoy and hadn't originally planned to give that officer a name until I was in the process of writing it. Private Mills has no relation to Regina. I was watching ****_Seven_**** at the time and Mills came to mind without even thinking of how it might confuse people. I've since changed the name to "Gaines" as it was only a secondary character, and will be more careful of that in the future :)**

**Please keep the comments and guesses coming, as that's what makes it so much fun for me. I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own ****_Once Upon A Time_** **or any of its characters, but I sure have fun making them do what I want.**

**This Chapter's Rating: T for mild and suggestive language.**

* * *

Emma still couldn't believe she had agreed to this.

First she was breaking into an apartment and now she and her son had taken off with a stranger without letting anyone in New York know where they were going.

Emma had sent Josef a text message explaining that she and Henry were going on a short vacation so that she could get away and clear her head. It shouldn't have surprised her when he didn't respond after the way she blew him off last night.

Still, if something were to happen to either of them, there wasn't a soul alive who knew where they were.

When Emma had plugged "Storybrooke" into her GPS app, nothing came up. Instead, Jones told her to drive to a small town in southern Maine and that he would know the way from there.

_Yeah, this scenario doesn't seem shady at all._

To top it off, it had been twenty four hours since she last had a decent sleep. Emma hadn't pulled an all-nighter since her stake-outs with Neal. She still felt that pull in her stomach at the thought of seeing him again, dreading the moment even more now that there was additional drama involved.

Of course, using the word "drama" to describe this situation was the understatement of the year.

She just spent a majority of this trip listening to Jones weave the story of their supposedly-forgotten lives. It was extremely difficult not to snicker or make sarcastic comments in the face of all this mess.

According to Jones, or "Killian" as Henry insisted on calling him, she was the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming and was sent through a freakin' tree because the Evil Queen, aka Regina, lost her boy toy at the hands of Snow White's treachery. So, this crazy hag cursed everyone by taking their memories, and sending them to a land without magic- Storybrooke, Maine.

He also claimed to be the very Captain Hook everyone has heard of and had indeed lived in Neverland with Peter Pan and the lost boys; except that he claimed Peter Pan was the villain. That part she found particularly amusing.

When she heard Henry gasping and squealing with delight when Jones spoke of their adventures in Neverland, though, Emma couldn't help but smile.

_"__So I ripped out my own heart to save magic?"_

Emma had peered up at her son through the rearview mirror and the enthusiasm and awe in his voice had made her melt. She knew he always dreamed of being the hero of such a tale. Even so, she didn't want him to go through all the disappointment when that part turned out to be a lie.

Once Jones reached the part regarding how they lost their memories, however, Emma watched the man's face and noticed how difficult it was for him to share this experience with them. There was a raw truth found on his features, and if this guy was lying, he was doing a damn good job of it.

Even though Jones did seem genuine, how could she believe all of this fairytale crap? Her, a princess and savior who brought everyone's memories back? And, if she was doing the math correct, (according to Jones' story anyway) he was over 300 years old.

_And I'm driving all of us to a town seven hours away that doesn't even exist on a map. Fantastic._

It was all very suspicious and went against her better judgment, but Emma's instincts rarely failed her. With the exception of Neal, she had generally known which path to follow, and this seemed like the right one to take now.

Despite everything, she could no longer deny that there were people and events from her past that she has yet to discover.

Emma just knew that if she didn't go looking for answers, she and Henry would be constantly looking over their shoulders, waiting for something or someone to show up. And if Emma was being completely honest with herself, she'd spent the last year doing just that.

She was done hiding from the truth now, however harsh it might be.

Yawning wide, Emma noticed her eyes starting to droop and she shook herself awake. They still had two hours to go and her lack of sleep was taking its toll. She cursed herself for not grabbing some coffee at home when she was startled by a rough voice.

"You're not falling asleep on us, are you?"

She swerved her head to look at Jones, who was playing with the knobs on the radio like he was attempting brain surgery.

"I'm fine." Emma raised her eyebrows as she watched his continued struggle. "Having problems?"

Jones shook his head in frustration, tucking in his lower lip. "I'm a man of many talents, luv, but this blasted mechanism appears to have bested me yet again."

She waited for him to break out into a grin, but realized quickly that he was serious.

"You don't know how to work a radio?"

He just laughed bitterly, rubbing his hand across his chin, and then looked over at her.

"When was the last time you slept, lass?"

Emma hesitated. Jones had asked her the same question at the pub and she had ignored him. Emma didn't want him to know that his actions, and annoyingly enough-his words, had caused her to stay awake most of the night. If she looked as bad as she felt, though, there was no point in lying about it.

"Over 24 hours," she murmured, turning on the radio once he had given up. Emma heard a deep sigh and saw him shake his head.

"It must be quite difficult trying to sleep with the image of me in your mind," he pondered aloud.

She could practically _feel _his smirk, but kept her eyes straight ahead.

"Or more to the point, the image of us togeth-"

"Alright. I thought I told you to lay off the remarks?" Emma nearly reached across the car to strangle him.

Jones chortled softly and motioned behind his shoulder. "Your boy nodded off some time ago."

There was a brief silence as Emma glanced into the rearview mirror at Henry. As much as she was dreading this conversation, she thought it would be better to ask Jones this particular question while her son wasn't listening. Besides, she wasn't sure what to expect once they reached their destination and Emma wanted to be prepared.

"So if everything you said is true, and I'm not saying that it is, then why did everyone else send _you_? You said Neal and my family were in danger, but you didn't explain how."

She could see Jones struggling with the answer, much like he had in the pub when she asked how he knew Neal. Emma had a feeling there was something more going on here than him playing the hero and devoted friend.

If she did have family other than Henry, and they were in danger, Emma needed to know how and why.

"It's complicated."

She raised her eyebrows sarcastically at that. "Ha! You don't say? Try me, Jones."

Shaking his head in response, he finally answered her. "It will make much more sense once we get to Storybrooke. I assume that you're already struggling to believe what I've told you so far, am I right?"

Well, obviously. It wasn't every day someone gets told they're a princess of a fairytale world.

It was clear that this guy was as stubborn as she was, but Emma was determined to find out as much as possible. If only her head wasn't a clouded mess, she could try to con him into telling her more.

Emma glowered at Jones and changed the subject, hoping she could find another way to open him up.

"I guess I can grab some coffee since we need to stop for gas anyway." The needle was much closer to "E" than she usually liked it to get.

"Is that what allows this vessel to move then?" Emma looked over at Jones who wore a completely deadpan expression.

_Was this guy for real?_

"Yeah, it's kinda necessary if we don't want to end up stranded in the middle of Nowheresville, Maine."

The radio played softly around them and Emma noticed Jones blow hot air into his good hand.

"I'm not familiar with that town, Darling, but feel free to take a brief intermission from our journey at any time," he said in a lazy drawl. Emma had an idea where he was going with this and without missing a beat, Jones leaned in close, his lips nearly brushing her ear.

"I'd be more than happy to _rejuvenate _your senses."

Emma pursed her lips and allowed the tingle he had created to slowly fade from her neck. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself not to look at him.

"Do you usually work this hard to get a woman's attention when she doesn't swoon over you?"

Emma heard him snort softly beside her.

"To be perfectly honest, luv, I've never really had to put forth much effort in that regard."

She wasn't going to dignify that with a response. Grabbing the wheel tightly, Emma strained her eyes to see whether the next exit had a gas station. After a few moments, she broke the silence.

"What about before, when we knew each other? Did I make it hard on you then?" Her attention was still on the road, but she could feel him tense up, which gave her a bit of satisfaction.

"Aye. You did indeed."

Afraid to scare him off by saying anymore, Emma remained quiet. If she wasn't mistaken, Jones' voice had broken slightly when he responded before. It was as if it pained him to talk about them; as if something had happened that couldn't be reversed.

Emma knew about meeting in their homeland, what he called the "Enchanted Forest," and that he had briefly been working for the Queen's mother, Cora (she thinks that was her name.) Jones had also mentioned them working together to save Henry in Neverland, but he left out any detail regarding interaction between the two of them.

Whether it was for Henry's sake or not, he was hiding a great deal more and she was going to get him to tell her all of it.

Leaning over slightly, she grasped his good hand in hers and pressed it against the heating vents. "Here, I increased the temperature, so it should keep your hand warm."

As she went to pull back, he kept their hands linked for a moment longer and they briefly made eye contact. Emma was sure Jones wanted to say something, but he never got the chance.

"Ooooh, I love this song. Turn it up, Mom!"

Emma was relieved that she hadn't swerved off the road at Henry's sudden interruption. She had jerked her hand away from Jones', and felt a pang of loss immediately. His gaze had put her into a small trance and Emma knew her instincts had been right.

There was more to them that he wasn't telling her.

"We thought you were sleeping, Kiddo. Are you still buckled up?" Emma strained her neck to check his seatbelt as Henry nodded.

"Killian, do you like this song?" Henry was leaning forward, one arm over each of their seats.

She noticed Jones relax beside her as he turned to smile at her son. "I do recognize it indeed, lad. I started familiarizing myself with the intricate workings of this odd music box back in Storybrooke."

Emma had heard the song before when Henry downloaded it to his collection months ago. She glanced over at Jones to gauge his reaction as the young artist's voice began:

_Hold on, to me as we go  
As we roll down this unfamiliar road  
And although this wave (wave) is stringing us along  
Just know you're not alone  
Cause I'm gonna make this place your home._

Henry's sang along as her and Jones listened. His voice was small, slightly higher pitched than the singer's, but it harmonized well. In that brief moment, Emma felt somewhat at peace and forgot the stress she had been carrying for days.

_Settle down, it'll all be clear  
Don't pay no mind to the demons  
They fill you with fear  
The trouble it might drag you down  
If you get lost, you can always be found  
Just know you're not alone  
Cause I'm gonna make this place your home._

As the song came toward the end, Emma allowed herself to appreciate Henry's innocence. He had such a passion for life that she admired and hoped he'd never lose.

"That was pretty great, right? He's one of my favorite singers," Henry added, glancing out the window.

"Your father introduced me to it, actually. He enjoys the young man's voice, among many others."

Emma saw Henry's face light up as he leaned forward over their seats again. "Really?! You guys must be close friends, then. What else does he listen to?"

Emma noticed Jones' smile fade as he turned his head to look at Henry directly. "Indeed we have been, my boy, and for quite some time. Perhaps you can ask him that yourself."

Emma tried to be happy for her son's excitement to meet his father, but it scared her to think that Neal would be a part of his life after what he did to her. She didn't want Henry to go through that too.

"That song was perfect for our road trip. Don't you think so, Killian?" Emma noticed that Henry's arm was draped over Jones' shoulder and something gripped her stomach.

"It certainly seems relevant to the current situation." Jones was looking at her with a serene expression on his face, which Emma saw out of the corner of her eye.

She suddenly felt very uncomfortable and decided to change the subject.

"Ok, well we should stop for gas and I'm going to need some caffeine before we have a real problem on our hands."

Emma turned on her signal and veered off the exit ramp. She could hear Henry rustling around in his pack behind her.

"Why didn't you say you were tired? I have some energy shots in my bag of snacks!"

She raised her eyebrows at him in surprise. "You know where my energy shots are?"

Henry's toothy grin was clearly visible in the dimly-lit car, the evening now turning into night. "Come on, Mom. How do you think I stay awake for those weekend videogame marathons?"

Emma laughed in spite of herself, glancing over at Jones. "This kid's a trip," she muttered.

"Darling, I haven't a clue as to what either of you are talking about."

* * *

According to Jones, they were only minutes from Storybrooke, as he was now giving her directions without the GPS.

"And you're _sure _you know where we are? I haven't seen a building or sign of civilization for miles."

"I traveled a great distance on this road by foot, luv, and I assure you that this is the way."

Jones squinted in order to see up ahead, the pitch black of darkness surrounding them. There weren't even lamp posts or passing vehicles to provide additional visibility.

"Besides," he mumbled as he continued looking ahead, "I'm not the kind of man who generally needs instruction, if you catch my meaning."

She noticed his smirk and rolled her eyes.

Emma had half a mind to pull over and make the arrogant bastard walk the rest of the way, but she needed him to find this place; assuming he actually _did_ know where they were going.

"Mom, watch out!"

Henry had pulled her attention forward, where a wolf was standing smack dab in the middle of the road. Swerving to the right, Emma hit the brake and slowed the car safely to a halt before any damage was done.

Breathing heavily, she turned around to check on Henry. "You ok, sweetie?"

Henry appeared unfazed by their close call and was already moving to get out of the car. "Look how cool he is!"

"Henry, stay in your seat." Emma glanced over to Jones to see that he appeared fine, before peering into her rearview mirror. The wolf was staring at them, apparently unaffected by the encounter, his eyes glistening like stars in a clear night sky.

"Better get a move on," Emma said as she went to shift the car back into drive.

"We're here, luv."

He had said it so low that Emma wasn't sure she heard him correctly. Looking over to Jones, she opened her mouth to question him, but saw him pointing to something off of the road. She turned on her high beams to try and see what he was pointing at, but couldn't make out anything in the darkness.

"Where's here? Storybrooke?"

In the rearview mirror, Emma could see Henry looking around apparently baffled too. She felt the heat in her neck rising at the thought of being outsmarted.

_I can't believe I let this guy trick me. We are in the middle of nowhere. What if that was his plan all along, to bring us out here and…ok, just stay calm._

Emma took a deep breath. "Jones, you better not be messing with us right now. If you think that-"

He moved to get out the car, shutting the door behind him without even a word to her or Henry. Emma could see in the moonlight that he was proceeding with caution and he looked like a soldier walking through a landmine, ready for any type of danger that could befall him.

"Henry, wait in the car." She looked back at her son who was about to protest. "Just stay here, Kiddo."

Getting out of the vehicle, Emma made her way over toward Jones, who still looked like he was searching for something in the middle of the road.

"Jones…?"

Holding up his gloved hand behind him to keep her at a distance, he continued reaching out with the other as if to feel for an object in mid-air.

"Shh. Be still, lass. I need to be certain of its location before we proceed."

And just when she thought this guy couldn't get any weirder. Emma didn't have the faintest idea of what he was talking about, but was sure they were nowhere near a town. Surrounded by forest and marsh, the area was completely abandoned, with only the sounds of insects and rustling leaves to be heard.

She took a quick glance toward her car to see that Henry had moved his way to the front seat, probably to get a better view. Emma motioned for him to stay put, which earned her a death glare in response.

Her patience running out, she turned back to Jones and made her way over to stand beside him. This had gotten his attention, and he swung his arm out to stop her.

"Don't go any further, Swan. I'm almost certain that it's only feet in front of us." He disregarded her look of confusion and craned his neck in the direction of her car.

"You can come out now, lad."

She heard the passenger door open and Emma pushed past Jones in a flash, pointing her finger at Henry.

"Henry Swan, I said to stay in the car and I meant it!"

She swung back around to face Jones, who she nearly lost in the darkness with all the black he had on.

"Just where the hell do you get off telling my son what to do? We're out in the middle of nowhere, and the town that you claim exists, isn't here."

Jones face was impassive and for the first time since she's met him, Emma couldn't begin to guess what he was thinking. Instead of speaking, though, he moved in closer to her.

_Oh great, he's going to try this with her son watching?_

She held out both hands, keeping him at arm's length. "What are you doing? Answer me _now_, Jones."

"Allow me, please." He gave her a look as to ask her permission, and she lowered her guard enough for him to slowly reach into her pocket.

"Hey, what are you-"

Jones pulled out the vial that she had shoved into her jacket before they went to the pub. Quite frankly, Emma had forgotten it was there.

"This was why I had you wait in the street earlier today, Darling. You and Henry need to take this now in order to enter Storybrooke. The liquid won't activate until we are standing next to the town line."

After seeing him wave Henry over, Emma kept her eyes on the vial as if were about to explode at any moment. He wanted them to drink the liquid from the vial, after all. She couldn't possibly take a chance with them in a remote area and no witnesses nearby.

Suddenly, something occurred to her. "You take it then."

Emma nodded to Jones, indicating the vial and its substance. Henry had reached them and was now looking at the liquid too.

"Killian, what's that?"

Looking down at the vial, Jones shook his head slowly and responded to Emma's earlier request. "I'm afraid I can't do that, lass. This potion was created for you and Henry specifically. I have already taken mine and can enter as I please."

Emma felt the fire rise in her throat again and she pulled Henry to stand beside her. "Enter where, Jones, there's nothing _here._"

He didn't even hesitate for a second. "Storybrooke is on the other side of this barrier. An invisible shield protects it from being seen or entered by anyone from the outside world."

"Oh, I get it! So it's kinda like the force field protecting the Death Star?"

Emma wasn't as amused as Henry was and she gave a huff of frustration mixed with disbelief.

Jones moved closer to them both, keeping his voice low. He was looking at Emma with the same expression of desperation from when he was arrested, and he reached out the vial to her once again.

"Regina made this potion for you using the swan keychain you received from Neal all of those years ago. Apparently he had worn it after you gave it back."

Emma darted her eyes to meet his.

She thought she'd lost it years ago, but never really missed it since then. It had been Emma's lucky necklace until the man who gave it to her left her to rot in prison.

Emma looked at Jones, frowning. "What do you mean, Regina made the potion?"

"She made one for you and one for your boy. His potion was created from a lock of his hair she carries with her, I believe she said."

Emma shot him a look of disgust and looked over to see Henry's similar reaction. Now he's claiming that some lady who thinks she's an evil queen has a lock of her son's hair? What was he trying to do, upset her even further?

She was about to start yelling again, when Jones knelt down in front of Henry. Emma moved to pull her son back, but the look of genuine concern on Jones' face stopped her.

"Henry, my boy, do you believe that I would ever let you or your mother come to any harm?"

Emma caught a glimpse of her son's initial reaction. He had a slight frown on his face, the same one he gave her when she tried to explain why she kept the truth about Neal from him. It lasted only seconds, though, and he suddenly gave the man a soft smile.

"No, I don't."

Her son surprised her by taking Jones' hand in his, pulling the vial from him. He looked up at her and gave Emma a reassuring look.

"He won't hurt us, Mom. I know that deep down you believe that too, or you wouldn't have brought us here."

Jones broke into a wide grin as he stood up and ruffled Henry's hair. "Such a smart lad."

As much as she wanted to disagree, Emma couldn't. Henry was right, as he knew her so well. She had followed her instincts to this point and now they were telling her that she'd have to trust this man again.

She saw Jones pull another object from his coat and realized that this one was meant for Henry.

"Stop! He doesn't try anything before I do."

Leaning down toward Henry, Emma whispered in his ear low enough so that Jones couldn't hear. "If something were to happen, Henry, I want you to run to the car. You lock the doors and use the cell to call for help, got it?"

Henry gave her an exasperated look but nodded in understanding.

_Well, they've come this far…_

Emma grabbed the vial and uncorked it, inspecting its contents more closely as to detect any danger. She took one last look at Henry, then swallowed every last drop of liquid and waited.

Well, she certainly didn't feel any different. Emma peered over at them both for any reaction, but they merely looked back at her expectantly.

While the substance itself had been odorless, she was surprised to find that it tasted a bit like rum, only it didn't burn like alcohol did. It also had a hint of coconut in the aftertaste. Although she detested it most of her life, she had oddly taken a liking to the exotic fruit quite recently.

Emma glanced over at Jones and saw that he appeared to be relieved, which meant there must have been some sort of risk in taking it.

_Why am I not surprised?_

She watched Jones hand Henry his vial, and the kid didn't even hesitate for a second, downing it in one swig.

"Henry wai-"

She felt a flash of fear, and then realized after a few seconds that her son appeared unscathed. He smacked his lips in appreciation.

"That tasted like cocoa and cinnamon!"

Emma let out a breath she had been holding and glanced over at Jones to see that he wore a smug grin, back to his usual overconfident self.

"Well, there's no time to waste. Let us be on our way." She saw Jones head back to the car, Henry close on his heels and talking excitingly about their upcoming adventures.

Emma looked around one last time as if to find something that could change her mind. The wolf was nowhere to be seen, and she inwardly wondered what else was waiting for them on the other side.

Getting back into the driver's seat, Emma realized Henry must have rolled down both passenger side windows in order to see and hear what was going on. He was practically bouncing up and down behind them and Emma told him to buckle his seatbelt.

She hesitated a moment, trying to justify going any further. Jones gently placed his gloved hand on her arm and she looked over to see that his expression was no longer cocky, but reassuring.

"Try something new, Darling…"

Suddenly there was flash of Jones in her mind, wearing his usual pirate leather and giving her a pleading look; and in that moment, Emma was _certain_ that they had met before.

_'…__It's called trust.'_

She mouthed the words out silently, and looked up to see Jones acknowledge them with a quirking eyebrow and a hesitant smile. He knew she had remembered their moment.

It was time to take one last leap of faith.

Gripping the wheel and telling Henry to hang on, Emma pushed down the gas pedal and the car lurched forward toward the so-called "town line."

She saw the hazy purple light appear around the car, and as they crossed over the border into Storybrooke, Emma could hear the faint howling of a wolf in the distance.

* * *

**A/N: Emma can't deny the truth anymore, haha. I'm sure many of you wanted them to get to SB before now, but I'm going to write this story as true to the characters as I feel it to be, and my thought was that it would take quite a bit of convincing to get Emma to believe (like before.) **

**Disclaimer: Song they listened to on the radio: Phillip Phillips. "Home." ****_The World from the Side of the Moon. _****2012. Interscope. **

**Next chapter: Someone finally sees the light and Hook ensures that a certain tradition doesn't get ignored. Please review :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thanks to you who are following, and to those who take a second to leave a review. It seems some are just now finding the story, and you're timing couldn't be more perfect. We're getting closer to the first climax and I'm anxious to see what you all think. Ok, enough babbling; on with the next chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Once Upon a Time_ or its characters, but I love making them do whatever I want.**

**This Chapter's Rating: T for language and innuendo**

* * *

The first thing Emma should have noticed was that the town had appeared out of thin air, its buildings towering in the distance. Small lights glimmered in the dark blanket of twilight, like fireflies on a summer evening.

Instead, it was the two figures standing just on the edge of the border that first caught her attention, one of them who Emma saw was hooded.

Jones was telling the truth. There had been a hidden town all along and they just passed through an invisible barrier hiding it from their sight. All of her doubt had gone up in a haze of purple mist.

None of this made absolutely _any_ sense, but he had been honest with them. Everything he had said was real.

This was real.

_Either that or I'm dreaming again._

She was just about to ask Jones who the two figures were, when a woman poked her head through the window on the passenger side.

"It's about time you got here, Hook. It's freezing outside."

Emma was more startled by the woman's features then her sudden appearance in the window. Her hair was short, jet-black, and she had large, bright eyes that shone even in the dimly-lit vehicle. Emma realized, almost immediately, that she had seen this woman in her dreams before. The details of her face had been blurred then, but Emma was sure she recognized her.

"Settle yourself, Regina. I bloody got them here, didn't I?"

The woman Emma now knew to be "Regina," shot Jones a look of disdain before she noticed Emma staring at her. She didn't smile, but gave a polite nod and brief acknowledgement.

"Miss Swan."

Jones opened the door, forcing Regina out of his way. Refocusing her attention on Regina, Emma noticed the expression on the woman's face and it made Emma stop in her tracks.

She was looking into the backseat of the car at Henry, her face lit up in jubilation as she moved to open his door.

"Oh, Henry…"

Suddenly, Emma realized that Regina was also the woman known as the Evil Queen, and that she was responsible for breaking up her family. Emma was out of the driver's side in an instant, and made her way around to the backseat.

"Stay back!" Emma grabbed Henry and pulled him out from the backseat, her heart still thumping in her chest at the recent events. In her peripheral vision, she could see Jones moving toward her with his hand outstretched.

"Easy, luv. Regina means you no harm. I've explained to you that she is a changed woman. She won't hurt you or your lad."

There was brief look of offense on Regina's face, but it ebbed quickly into one of mild frustration. Placing her hands on her hips, she frowned and looked at Jones.

"So I'm guessing the kiss didn't work, then?"

Jones glanced down, apparently embarrassed at her question. Emma was baffled by her words and his odd reaction, but just tightened her grip around Henry. Emma could feel him shaking beneath her, and she wasn't sure if it was from excitement or fear, but knew he had to feel as overwhelmed as she did.

"No, sadly it did not. Neither of them have regained their memories as of yet."

Emma was almost sure she had heard him mutter "or so she_ claims_" under his breath, but kept her focus on Regina, who was now looking directly into Henry's face.

"You don't remember me at all, Henry?"

Emma did her best not to feel bad for the woman, but the look of desperation and hurt made it nearly impossible not to feel a small twinge of pity for her.

She could feel Henry shake his head slightly, and Regina's smile faded. She looked up at Emma and put on a stoic face.

"Your memories will return in time. It's different for every person," she said looking back to Henry again with an encouraging smile.

Emma noticed Jones grasping hands with the other person she now noticed was a man, as he had lowered his hood. Jones caught Emma's eye, and pulled the man closer toward them. She saw a glimpse of something that looked like a bow strapped to his back, and Emma stiffened in defense.

"Emma, Henry, this is Robin. He's a close friend as well."

Henry pulled himself from her grasp before Emma could react.

"So that's why you're wearing a hood," Henry said, finally finding his voice since they crossed over. Robin watched as Henry approached him slowly, seemingly surprised by the boy's reaction.

"Henry…" Emma moved to pull him back, but Jones held out his arm gently and smiled.

"It's alright, lass, I promise."

Emma narrowed her eyes at Jones, but moved back slightly. She watched Henry, who circled the man known as "Robin" slowly and lightly touched his bow in awe. She was surprised to see that the man wasn't annoyed, but mildly amused.

"That must mean you're Robin Hood." Henry's eyes were wide and shining brightly in the moonlight.

This hadn't occurred to her, more than likely because of all the excitement during their arrival. Emma still couldn't believe any of this was actually happening, but Jones hadn't mentioned Robin at all. She assumed there would be more surprises like this one and didn't look forward to any of them.

Robin chuckled and offered his hand to Henry in greeting. "Everyone just calls me 'Robin,' son, but you can call me whatever you'd like."

Emma allowed herself to relax slightly, glancing over at Regina. She was surprised to see that the woman had a sad smile on her face, watching Henry's every move.

_Why did she seem so attached to him? Jones didn't say anything about Henry being particularly close to anyone, except his so-called grandparents._

"Well, as lovely as this reunion has been, I assume we aren't planning to sleep out here tonight?" Jones walked to the car and opened the door to the backseat, motioning for everyone to get in as he continued, this time speaking to Regina and Robin.

"The three of us have had a long journey, and I'm sure Emma and Henry need their rest."

Emma finally allowed the last five minutes sink in and came to her senses, asking the question that had burned in her mind from the beginning.

"Where's Neal?"

Everyone snapped their heads up at that, including Henry, and Emma saw Regina give Robin a grave look. She felt her breath catch a moment, and peered at Jones who seemed to be awaiting a response as much as she was.

It was Regina who finally spoke up, and this time she looked directly at Emma, her voice low.

"You had better come with us to the hospital. We can explain everything there."

* * *

The drive to town hadn't exactly been a joyride. The first fifteen minutes, which seemed to Emma like it took longer than the drive to Maine, was filled with complete and awkward silence.

Jones had requested that Henry sit in the front, probably since he knew he'd want to get a better look at the town. It had certainly made Emma feel better, as she wasn't sure what was going on with this Regina woman.

Emma spent most of the ride glancing at the ex-Evil Queen in the rearview mirror and caught her staring at Henry almost the entire time. Apparently there was even more Jones had kept from them than Emma had originally thought.

The rest of her thoughts were focused on Neal. Obviously there was something wrong with him that they didn't want to worry her or Henry about until their arrival.

She couldn't honestly tell herself that she wanted Neal to be dead, and her reaction back at the border had been proof that she didn't wish him any physical harm.

_At least no __**fatal**__, physical harm, anyway._

Her real worry was that Henry would be devastated to find out something had taken his father from him before they ever got to meet. Emma had spent a large portion of the drive from New York deciding that she wasn't going to keep Henry from Neal anymore; just protect him as best as she could.

The town itself was nothing like she would have thought. To any outsider, the physical appearance of Storybrooke seemed like any other small, quaint town in Maine. The buildings were mainly row houses, some of them small businesses, others homes of residents. It had a school house, a church, a town hall, even a recreational center.

Besides the visions and the purple haze they had gone through at the border, Emma still hadn't seen anything to convince her that this was a town that housed magical, fairytale characters.

The town of Storybrooke screamed _Green Acres_, not _Grimm's Fairy Tales._

Emma had glanced up at the clock tower, at which she noticed Henry had stopped chattering for and stared. He almost seemed in a trance, but shook his head and glanced over at her with a shrug.

"That clock needs fixed, because there's no way it's 8:15."

* * *

The exterior of the hospital looked as normal as the rest of the town. Ambulances lined the emergency lanes, with personnel and patients walking in and out of the building.

"You can park right over there, Miss Swan," Regina told Emma as she pointed to an empty handicap space.

"That's marked handicapped," Emma protested. She glanced in the rearview to catch Regina scowling at her.

"This town currently doesn't have a sheriff, so I think we'll be fine."

Everyone shuffled out of the car, but before Henry could open his door, Emma stopped him.

"Hey, Kiddo. Look, I know that this has been a hectic night. It might be best if I go and check on Neal quickly, and then we can just come back tomorrow after a decent sleep."

If there had been any doubt in Emma's mind whether Henry was frightened or excited, his expression at that moment had laid it to rest. Henry looked determined and was shaking his head at her before she even got all of the words out.

"Mom, we've come too far to rest now. We're so close to finding him, and since we're at a hospital, my guess is that he's not in the best shape."

Emma's eyebrows rose in surprise and she placed her hand on Henry's cheek, giving him one last chance to back out, but he continued with a sigh.

"I'm not scared that he's going to hurt me, so you shouldn't be either. This is where we belong."

He patted her hand in response before he turned to the door and stepped out of the car. Emma watched Henry walk over to Jones and let him put his good hand around his shoulder.

As Emma got out of the driver's side and made her way over to the group entering the hospital, she suddenly realized that her decision to let Henry make his own choices regarding Neal was the right one. Not only did her son deserve the chance to meet his father, he was mature enough to handle the consequences.

This filled Emma with a great deal of pride.

The automatic doors swung open, and Regina waved them inside. Jones stayed back and waited for Emma, his arm still around Henry.

"You alright there, luv?" His voice was just low enough that she could hear and she gave him a small nod in return.

As hard as she had been on Jones initially, Emma felt comfortable enough around him now. She was certain that this would be much more difficult if she and Henry didn't have him there.

Emma glanced over and noticed that they just entered the Intensive Care Ward and something gripped her throat. Perhaps it was as serious as Regina and Robin's faces had indicated.

She could hear a doctor being paged over the intercom, along with the soft beeping of medical machines nearby and Emma wondered whether they ran on electricity or pixie dust.

Suddenly a young doctor approached them, wearing a polite smile and extending his hand in greeting.

"Emma, Henry. Welcome back. You may not remember me, but I'm Dr. Whale."

Emma clasped his hand, smiling slightly, and gave the doctor a twice over to be sure she didn't recognize him. She glanced at Regina, who nodded to him quickly, apparently looking to skip any further pleasantries.

"Which fairytale character are you, then?" Henry hadn't hesitated in grasping the doctor's hand in a shake, and Emma had to stifle her laugh. Jones made no attempt to do the same with his, however.

Regina smiled patted his back. "Not now, Henry. We need to follow Dr. Whale."

"Right this way," Whale said over his shoulder, as he turned and led them toward the other rooms.

Emma saw Regina take Henry's hand, leading him further down the hall and something in her snapped.

"Hey! Hands off my son, lady." Emma pushed passed Robin and grabbed Henry's hand from Regina, who had a shocked expression on her face.

"I know that Jones trusts you and that you've turned your life around, but Henry and I don't know who you are. No offense, but you're getting a little too personal, so please just give my son some space."

Robin appeared slightly taken back and she could feel Jones' hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down. Emma noticed a few of the patients had stopped and were watching the scene unfold.

"_Your _son_?_"Regina's look of surprise turned into an appalled expression and she swerved to face Jones, apparently livid. "You didn't _tell _them?!"

Frowning, Emma peeked at Jones in order to gauge his reaction. He was looking down at the ground, clearly ashamed. Gently pushing Henry to the side, Emma inched towards him.

"Tell me, _what_, Jones?"

Pursing his lips, he looked back to Regina and kept his voice quiet. "I didn't want them to hear it from me, Regina. This is between you and Emma."

She could feel her head pounding, the breath catching in her lungs, and Emma grabbed the lapels on Jones' jacket to force him to look back at her. She had known all along that there were things he hadn't told them and now he was forcing her hand.

"I swear to God… You had better start talking or so help me, I'll-"

"Dad!" Henry's voice echoed through the halls and it pulled Emma from her state of fury.

During the altercation, she hadn't noticed Henry moving further away from them. Pulling her attention from Jones, Emma saw Henry's hands and face pressed up against the glass, his eyes wide in amazement. She only had a few seconds to process everything and her son was moving to enter the room.

"Henry, wait-"

She was running down the hallway, Regina and Robin just reaching the door. By the time Emma got there, Henry was already hunched over the patient lying in bed. Looking up to the man's face, she realized immediately that her son was right, and her stomach dropped.

Neal had, what looked like burn marks, on a majority of his forehead and hands. The blisters appeared raw as if they were recent, but he seemed to be in a deep sleep with no other obvious signs of pain.

Finally finding her breath, Emma stepped closer to the bed, her eyes now finding Henry. He was crying, and it suddenly occurred to her that he shouldn't have recognized Neal on his own. She had never even showed him a picture of his father.

_That could only mean one thing…_

"Henry?" Emma moved her arm to touch him on the shoulder, but Henry looked up at her before she could continue. She had never seen such a look on her son's face before.

"I remember."

You could hear a pin drop in the room, and besides Regina's soft gasp, Emma only acknowledged the pounding of a heartbeat in her own ears.

"You remember? You remember Neal?" Emma's words sounded muddled in her own head.

Henry nodded his head and he suddenly broke into a wide grin. "I remember everything."

Emma could feel the beads of sweat running down the sides of her face and she felt light headed. Having not slept for two days would be too much for anyone, but the adrenaline was keeping her upright. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words.

"I remember going to Boston to find you- my birth mom," Henry said, standing up before continuing. "And then I brought you back to Storybrooke. I remember Operation Cobra and me eating that apple turnover to save you. I remember you breaking the curse and waking up everyone, and that you and Mr. Gold took me to New York where we found my dad."

Henry glanced down at Neal again, this time with a loving smile. "I remember Neverland and you guys coming to save me before Peter Pan stole my body." He looked up at Emma, and she saw sadness in his eyes that scared her more than anything else had so far.

"I remember you and I leaving everyone else behind to get sent back home and finding out that you and I would have new memories."

She hadn't said anything to Henry about Mr. Gold and some of what her son had said, she didn't remember Jones telling them in the car. The room began to spin slightly and Emma held on to Neal's bed to balance herself.

Behind her, she heard a chocked sob, and knew immediately who the sound came from and why.

This was what Jones didn't want Emma to know. This was why Regina had a lock of his hair, and why she couldn't keep her eyes off of him since they arrived.

This was what Emma had already known, deep down inside, but didn't want to accept.

"Henry?"

Regina's voice had broken the deafening silence in the room, but it was Henry's response that broke Emma's heart.

"Mom!"

He was running over to Regina, not Emma, and Henry wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace.

Emma felt herself start to fall back, a dizziness taking over and she barely felt the strong pair of arms holding her from behind, the smell of leather enveloping her.

After a few moments, she somehow found a way to stand on her own.

"Are you ok?" Henry was beside her seconds later, grabbing her hand, and Emma regained her senses slightly.

Glancing over at Regina, who was wiping the tears from her cheeks, Emma did her best to remain calm for Henry's sake. Squeezing his hand in response, she somehow found the words.

"Henry, I just need to step out for some air, ok? You stay here with Neal."

Her son nodded and seemed to understand, making his way over to the side of the bed where he had been before.

Emma's legs were like jelly, but she moved out of the room quickly and into the hallway. She heard Whale's voice behind her, asking if any of them needed rooms. Emma was half aware of Jones being the one to respond to him, before she headed for the nearest EXIT sign.

She could hear someone following her, but kept walking anyway, desperate to reach the door. Emma had just pushed it open and let the gust of air hit her face, when she heard someone speak.

"I'm sorry you had to find out that way."

Despite having little fight left in her, Emma swung around toward Regina in anger.

"So Jones was telling the truth then? None of our memories before last year are real. You gave us new ones?"

Regina's face was impassive, apparently expecting this kind of reaction from her. She moved closer to Emma and lowered her voice.

"Look, I know this is a great deal to take in all at once-"

"So are you his mother or am I? Henry said I am his birth mom, but…"

Emma trailed off, putting the pieces together slowly in her mind.

Jones had said that they left out on their own a year ago and all of her and Henry's memories had been created by Regina's magic. Henry mentioned coming to Boston to get her and bringing Emma back to Storybrooke; which meant that _he_ was from Storybrooke.

Finally meeting Regina's eyes directly, Emma's words came out in a near whisper.

"I really did give him up twelve years ago. You're the one who actually raised him. Henry's your son."

For the first time, Regina reached out and made contact with her, placing a hand on the lower part of Emma's arm and speaking quietly.

"_Our_ son."

Shaking her head in disbelief, Emma back pedaled and leaned her head against a nearby wall. She took a deep breath and tried to maintain her composure, as the sound of ambulance sirens wailed in the distance.

"Emma, I gave you and Henry those memories so you could be happy. At the time, I wasn't certain I was ever going to see him again."

She could feel, rather than see, Regina standing in front of her and trying to make eye contact.

"Now he has memories of both of us. Now you and I can each have moments with him to cherish."

Darting her head back down to meet Regina's gaze, Emma quickly stood up, forcing Regina to do the same.

"Yeah, only mine are fake. I've been living a lie for the past year, and so has Henry."

Emma paced back and forth on the side walk, glancing around as if to find the answers to all of her questions hiding behind a parked car or nearby bush.

_I don't know what's real and what isn't anymore._

Regina's voice seemed to pull her out of a trance, her tone being much less sympathetic this time. "I know this is the last thing you want to hear right now, but I need your help."

She stopped pacing and looked over at Regina in disbelief.

_Was this bitch serious?_

"Why should I help you with anything? You took my family from me, tried to kill us on more than one occasion, and fed my brain a load of crap so I'd think I was living a life that wasn't even mine."

Regina's softness was completely gone and her features became hard and determined.

"Yes, we're all a long way from happily ever after. I made my share of mistakes, but I need you now. If you want to protect Henry and all of the people he loves, you'll help me defeat the evil that's coming."

Oh yeah. Jones had told them about some witch, who Henry believed was the Wicked Witch, by the sounds of it. Jones hadn't told her what the witch was planning, but Emma couldn't see how she was going to help stop any of it.

"If you have magic, why can't you just kill the witch yourself?"

The words came out of her mouth, but they seemed so foreign to Emma, like a sound bite from some fantasy film.

This all had to be one big, crazy, nightmare.

Regina let out a humorless laugh and threw her hands in the air. "Yes, well if only it were that simple. My abilities are very limited here. My magic doesn't work: that's why the witch sent me back here in the first place."

Emma's head was spinning. Nothing Regina had just said was clear to her and Emma realized that if she didn't find a bed soon, they would have to wheel her back in on a gurney.

"I'm going to sleep," she murmured over her shoulder before Regina could react and walked back into the hospital.

She nearly ran into him, as he must have been standing there the entire time. Jones had a look on his face like he was waiting for her to slug him.

Emma would certainly like to, but right now she'd probably miss and accidentally hit a nearby patient, so she decided to walk right past and ignore him completely.

"Darling, wait."

Jones caught up and walked beside her. Emma trudged down the hallway, making her way to where Neal and Henry were, but he caught her arm and led her into an empty room.

She began to protest, but he cut her off.

"Dr. Whale says you can rest here for the night, as there aren't many patients here nowadays. Henry has opted to remain with his father in the next room. He'll be safe, luv."

He went to cup her face, but Emma jerked her head away, coming to her senses for the moment.

She made a feeble attempt to push him away, but his arms were taught around her. He pushed Emma gently backwards until her legs hit the bed and they buckled, as she fell onto the mattress.

As much as she wanted to yell at him, the bed felt so amazing underneath her. She allowed the exhaustion to begin its work as she noticed Jones disappear around the corner.

Thinking she caught a break, Emma took off her jacket and boots and leaned back into the pillow. The last time she was this exhausted, she had spent her first three days in prison and was afraid to go to sleep.

This time, a part of Emma told her that she'd probably rather just not wake back up this time.

Her lids began to close, Emma's body giving into the exhaustion at last, but the slam of a door jolted her awake. "What the hell, Jones?"

He was carrying her and Henry's bags in the crook of his left arm and her car keys in his good hand. Emma glanced over at her jacket and took a second to wonder how he had obtained them.

"Why do you have my keys?"

Placing both bags on the ground, Jones pulled a chair up close to her bed and sat down.

"I took the liberty of fetching you and your boy's belongings. You'll need them, I presume, since you're staying here."

Emma frowned and elected not to respond just now, reaching into her bag for a set of night clothes. The only reason she was agreeing to sleep here was because she didn't trust herself to drive to a hotel in this state. Emma would think about what to do in the morning, when she had a clear head.

She reached the bathroom door and turned to Jones, who was still sitting in a chair looking at her expectantly.

"Why are you still here? I don't need a body guard, I don't want to talk, and you sure as hell aren't staying in here with me overnight."

Jones quirked his eyebrow and leaned back in his seat, crossing his one leg over the other.

"Sweetheart, why on earth would I waste my talents on you when you're far too tired to even appreciate them?"

Emma didn't even have the strength to scold him or think of a witty comeback, so she just moved into the bathroom and slipped on a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top. Brushing her teeth, Emma tried to think of a way to remove the damn pirate from her room without wasting any more energy.

_Where does he get off coming in here like this after what he did?_

Everything he went through to get them to Storybrooke and Jones elected to keep something this important from her? Maybe he hadn't lied, but this was almost as bad.

A part of her understood that he didn't want to be the one to tell Henry, but Jones could have explained this part to her in the pub. Of course, she probably wouldn't have believed him and certainly wouldn't have agreed to bring Henry to Storybrooke under these pretenses.

_But then Henry wouldn't have remembered and they would still be living a lie in New York._

Emma spit out her toothpaste foam and rinsed her face. The warm water had a faint smell of chemicals that she assumed the hospital used to sanitize it with. Grabbing for a towel, Emma patted her face dry, the stiff threads of the cotton feeling grainy against her face.

Maybe she was being a bit too harsh on Jones. After all, it wasn't his fault any of this had happened. If Emma was being honest with herself, she was more hurt than angry. She had trusted him to tell her everything, and the fact that he let her find out that way had wounded her more than she cared to admit.

She clicked off the bathroom light, and stepped back into the room, which she was surprised to find almost completely dark. With just the light from the street lamps shining through the window shades from outside, she could barely make out his outline.

"Jones, what-"

"Shhh, quiet luv. Come and sit down."

He patted the bed next to him with his gloved hand, and she cautiously moved to lie down on the opposite side.

"If this is what I think it is, I told you it's not going to happen."

Emma heard his soft chuckle and saw him pull out something in a wrapper. He struggled to open it at first, but used his teeth and good hand to pry it free.

Squinting in the darkness, Emma could see that it was one of those snack cakes people bought at a convenience store. Reaching into his other pocket, Emma saw him pull out what she recognized to be a single candle and he placed it on the serving table between them.

He reached into his jacket a third time, and she saw that he was now holding a gold pocket watch. Upon looking at it, he frowned and pursed his lips in mild frustration.

"Hmm, I'm a few minutes off lass, so you'll have to pardon me." He turned his hand toward her, the street light shining on the watch's face so that she could read the time.

12:04

Emma gasped in realization.

_Surely not…but how did he know?_

Jones seemed to understand that she had caught on and smiled. "Happy Birthday, Emma."

She was speechless.

Not only had it slipped her mind in the past few hours, but she was baffled as to how he knew. Even more to the point, she couldn't understand how he found out about her strange tradition.

Every birthday since she could remember, Emma would light a single candle in a cupcake and tell herself "Happy Birthday," making the wish that she wouldn't be alone anymore.

Granted, she hadn't done this since before she met Neal. After they started living together, Emma had decided that she didn't need to wish for a family, as she had him. They had each other. Even as close as they had become, though, she never told Neal about doing this every year.

She had never told _anyone_ about it.

"I'm not an expert on these situations luv, but I believe we need to light the candle, yes?"

Emma was brought out of her stupor at the sound of his voice and found it difficult to speak in that moment. "Uh, yeah. I guess we need a lighter."

She heard a soft grunt of frustration and she looked up at Jones, trying to read his expression in the darkness, but couldn't. "Ah, yes. Those blasted lightening sticks. Neal tried to teach me a few months ago, but to no avail."

There was a shuffling and she saw him stick the candle into the snack cake, then turn toward her. "So, I was hoping you could give me a hand with this, actually- no pun intended."

Emma was almost certain he had winked at her and she sighed. "If we don't have a lighter then there's no sense in-"

"Use your magic. Like I explained to you in the car, remember?"

Emma snorted and did her best to try and see Jones in the darkness. "You were serious about that? I don't have magic, are you kidding?"

She felt his hand grasp hers, his fingers calloused and warm. Although the room temperature was quite comfortable, Emma shivered at his touch in spite of herself.

"Give it a go, Darling."

As tired as she was, Emma felt there was no harm in proving him wrong so he'd let her get some rest. She closed her eyes imagined a light burning at the end of a candle, allowing the imaginary glow to fill her up. Emma opened her eyes expectantly.

Nothing.

Emma shook her head in frustration and moved to get out of bed to turn on the lights, but Jones held her there, still grasping her hand.

"You're just tired. Try it one more time for me. Please."

With a heavy sigh, Emma settled back in bed. Taking a deep breath, Emma closed her eyes again and did her best to concentrate.

She could tell there was still no light, even with her eyes closed.

"Come on, Darling, I know you can do this."

Feeling completely drained, Emma began to protest. "Jones, just leave me alone so I can rest."

She suddenly felt his lips brush the fingers on her hand that he was still holding, and a jolt of heat ran through her body.

Hearing his soft gasp of surprise, Emma opened her eyes to see a small spark igniting at the end of the candle's wick. It flickered and then caught, turning into a bright flame.

For the hundredth time in the last few hours, Emma was stunned. She could hardly believe any of this, but had witnessed it for herself.

"You see? It's inside of you. It always has been; you just need to believe."

Emma gazed up at him in awe, the light flickering across his features, and she smiled in spite of herself.

"I guess you're quite the teacher."

His face broke into a wide grin and he squeezed her hand in response. "It's not me, lass. You're the product of true love. Your parents have a special bond and they care for you a great deal."

She wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, knowing how her parents were currently stuck in another land. The part of her that wanted to believe Jones was telling the truth about them was creeping into her heart again. In that moment, Emma felt a trace of hope: as small, but as bright as the flame burning before her.

She felt him release her hand with his good one and move it up to wrap around a lock of her wavy hair. Keeping his eyes on the curl, he absentmindedly broke the silence. "You have yet to make a wish, luv."

Emma glanced up at him through her lashes and her smile faded. "I'm not even sure where to begin."

He sighed, getting up from his chair and made his way over to the doorway. Meeting his gaze, she saw that Jones wore an expression that she'd never seen before, one of complete vulnerability. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and determined.

"All great things must begin somewhere, Emma."

As he bid her good night and shut the door behind him, Emma was surprised that she suddenly felt safe despite everything that had happened. She didn't understand what it all meant or how she was going to handle it, but tonight Emma would allow herself to rest knowing she had Jones watching her back.

And that was ok.

* * *

**A/N: Imagine having a day like that one haha. I want to hear what you all thought of this installment, as I really had fun writing it. **

**Next chapter: Emma returns to a familiar place that ISN'T Storybrooke and Regina puts in her two cents, earning respect from many.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Another Sunday without our beloved show (three months never felt so long!) Well, I hope this story is helping you get through the hiatus. Also a VERY Happy Birthday to Colin O'Donoghue, who without his talents, Hook just wouldn't be Hook. I even named a secondary character in this chapter in his honor :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own ****_Once Upon a Time_**** or its characters, but I've got ****_plenty _****in store for them :)**

**This Chapter's Rating: T (borderline M) for graphic violence and mild language.**

* * *

_Between the sounds of men shouting for their lives and dangerous waves crashing against the ship, surely taking pieces of the vessel with it back out to sea; Emma should have stayed wrapped in the safety of his cabin._

_But she didn't._

_Before opening the hatch, Emma had just enough time to wonder what was happening before the whipping rain stung her face. She stepped onto the main deck, and getting her bearings, she took in the chaos happening around her._

_Most of the men were running back and forth, doing their best to maintain the sails and yards controlling them. Some had been injured and were yelling for help, their cries ignored over the current crisis at hand._

_Where the __**hell**__ was he?_

_Emma came across an injured sailor, noticing he had been sliced through the lower abdomen, and was doing what he could to keep his insides where they belonged. He couldn't have been much older than sixteen._

_Bending down, she pushed hard against his wound to try and staunch the flow of blood and the boy cried out in agony._

_Emma was about to yell for help, but a large wave crashed over the starboard side, filling her mouth with the taste of salty bitterness. After choking on the water for a moment, she found a way to speak._

_'__What's your name, sailor?'_

_'__Colin.' He spluttered red and Emma noticed that his skin felt cold and rubbery against her hand. 'Colin McGrath, your Highness.'_

_She glanced over and saw something large fall from the Quarter Deck and realized it wasn't a man._

_Someone had injured a mermaid and had attempted to throw it overboard, its scaly tail glimmering in the moonlight and thrashing wildly at the crewman nearby. Finally, a burly sailor speared the creature in the heart, finishing it off._

_A mermaid attack. That must have been what put her out of commission in the first place._

_Emma squinted toward the stern of the ship, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man she was searching for, but the winds had picked up even more. The thunder boomed so loudly that Emma could barely hear the shouting of the crew around them._

_Looking back down at the boy, she noticed he was no longer conscious. Emma moved to check his pulse with her free hand, but the ship's bow rose up suddenly, launching her backward._

_The back of her head hit the deck and she saw a flash of spots, the pain from her previous injury overwhelming her for a moment. Emma somehow regained her wits, lifting herself up and looking around. She had lost sight of the boy sailor._

_Suddenly, she heard a faint buzzing, like that of an active bee hive, only louder and more ominous. As she looked around for the source, Emma was distracted by a flash out of the corner of her eye._

_It was coming from the stern, next to the helm, and Emma knew immediately that she'd found him._

_'__Emma!'_

_She was able to make out the word despite the noise around them, but his voice sounded so far away. She started toward his direction when a scream rang out. It had been the same one she had heard in the captain's cabin, and Emma frantically scanned the deck to see if it was the young sailor._

_"__Emma!"_

_The voice wasn't his this time. Peering back at the stern, she saw that there was no one. Emma realized that she was suddenly alone, as the wind calmed and the rain slowed to a drizzle. _

_The eerie silence was frightening and she yelled out for him. Her voice echoed over the ship, the only sound to be heard besides the strange buzzing from before._

_It grew darker and darker, two stars in the sky shining brightly as the only source of light in the blanket of shadows enveloping her._

"Emma! Emma, wake up."

The darkness that had engulfed her was slowly fading and when her green eyes opened, they were met with another pair, brown and determined.

"Finally," Regina frowned as she stepped back from Emma's bed. "I thought I was going to have to smack you awake."

Allowing herself to adjust to the light, Emma took in the room for the first time since being in an exhausted state. Besides a small, ceramic sink in the corner, there wasn't much in terms of furniture, and Emma was reminded of her room at the penitentiary in Arizona.

She glanced at Regina, who seemed to be scrutinizing her, and tried to overlook the feeling of dread from the dream. Slowly, she came to her senses and started piecing together the events of last night.

This was the previous Evil Queen who ruined her life, couldn't use her magic, and therefore needed Emma's help killing the Wicked Witch.

She also happened to be the woman who raised Henry since Emma gave him up as an infant.

_Oh, we can't forget about that._

Emma met Regina's eyes with an exasperated sigh and broke the silence. "Where's Henry?"

Regina's face softened at his name and nodded off to the distance. "He's having breakfast with Hook in the cafeteria."

Emma stretched her muscles and stepped out of bed, now realizing that it had to be later in the morning than she was used to waking up. She looked up at the clock on the wall, now easily visible in the morning light, and saw that it was 10:30.

Suddenly realizing she had forgotten something, Emma caught Regina's gaze. "What happened to Neal anyway? How did he get those burns?"

Regina shook her head. "It's a long story. Basically, he tried to leave Storybrooke to find you, but the invisible barrier had other plans. That's how I thought to make potions for you, Henry, and Hook."

He had tried to find them, putting himself at great risk. That didn't sound like the Neal she knew. Emma tried to push away her negative feelings toward him, for Henry's sake. "Is he going to wake up?"

"We don't know. I'm not entirely sure what kind of spell he's under, but Whale said his stats are fine."

Emma nodded somberly and grabbed her bag, still sitting by the chair Jones had used. She suddenly remembered their shared moment and her eyes found the cupcake still sitting on the side table.

So that hadn't been a dream. Jones really _did_ wish her a "Happy Birthday" with a cupcake and candle.

A candle that was lit with magic.

_Her_ magic.

Emma briefly considered asking how she, herself, was able to light the candle if no one could use magic in this town, but decided against it. Regina must have noticed her gaze. "What's with the cupcake?"

Shrugging off the question, Emma headed toward the bathroom. "I need at least thirty minutes to wake up," she said over her shoulder.

"No problem. Just try your best to hurry, because we need to be at Town Hall by noon."

"Great," Emma murmured aloud as she shut the bathroom door. Moving to the tub, she turned on the hot water, steam escaping from the faucet.

Time to meet the residents of Town Not-so-Happily Ever After.

_Suddenly a mermaid attack didn't seem so bad._

* * *

"You're telling me that you guys never had pancakes on your ship?"

Emma walked into the large cafeteria lined with row tables and benches. Henry and Jones were sitting across from one another at far end of the room. The pirate was trying to cut his pancakes one-handed.

"We didn't always have the luxury of a decent cook, lad."

Henry sniggered and pulled his fork up to take a bite as he saw Emma approaching them.

"Mornin' Mom. How did you sleepf?" His mouth was full of food, but his face was covered with concern.

Emma's insides tightened briefly when Henry had said "Mom." Apparently having two mothers hadn't changed anything for him and their relationship was intact, which provided her a great deal of relief. She shook her head and tried to cover the emotion going on inside and sat down next to her son.

"Don't eat with your mouthful, Kiddo." She ruffled his hair lovingly and glanced over at Jones to see him giving her a knowing look, as if to read her mind.

_This guy must really know what makes me tick. Ugh, now's not the time, Swan._

"Hey, hold on. I have to grab something, I'll be right back." Scurrying out of his seat, Henry ran to the front where the cashier was ringing up customers.

Emma picked at her nails, feeling awkward being alone again with Jones since their last encounter. She took a chance and glanced up at him through her lashes, unsurprised to see that he was smiling at her.

"Did you rest well, lass?"

She didn't hold his stare for long, pretending to find the menu on the wall behind him very interesting. "Not unless you call dreaming about being attacked by mermaids on a ship in a thunderstorm _well_."

He frowned at that, dropping his fork. The aroma of hickory bacon wafted from the kitchen and Emma's mouth watered, suddenly realizing how hungry she was.

"You had a dream about my ship?"

Emma looked around, wondering where Henry had gone to. She shook her head and sighed, absentmindedly watching a janitor scrub the floor around them.

"I'm not sure, but it might have been. For some reason, I'm pretty sure I was looking for you."

She heard him snort in amusement and Emma rolled her eyes. "I'm just saying that because I think I heard you yelling for me. It seemed like you were trying to get my attention, but it was hard to hear with all of the thunder and crew shouting around me."

Emma didn't want to tell him how familiar it felt or that she had dreamt a similar one like that before.

When Jones didn't respond, she continued, returning to her nails. "It felt like a memory, but of course I couldn't make any sense of it."

Emma peeked at Jones to get some insight, but he was staring at his plate deep in thought. She decided to change the subject and get his attention another way.

"Look, if we're going to continue to work together, I need you to be honest and stop leaving me in the dark. No more like that crap you pulled last night, got it?"

She saw him lift his fork again, the sticky syrup stringing between itself and the plate. Jones finally spoke. "You said there was a crew?"

"What?" Emma squinted her eyes at him, baffled at his switch in direction.

_Had he even heard a word of what she just said?_

"In your dream you mentioned something regarding a crew aboard my ship. Am I right?"

Emma rolled her eyes and made a frustrated sound. "Yeah, why?"

Jones opened his mouth to answer when Henry finally reappeared. "Here we go. All of your favorites!"

He presented her with a plate filled with bacon, eggs, and even a bear claw donut. She looked over at her son, who wore a giant grin as he set down a cup of cocoa with a dash of cinnamon on top.

"Happy Birthday!"

Emma's eyes filled with tears suddenly and she let the emotions of the last twenty four hours show on her face. Hugging him tightly, she choked out a sob of thanks.

"Don't be sad, Mom. We're almost home and soon you'll have your memories too." He pulled back from her gently and looked into her face. "You haven't remembered anything else, right?"

Emma recovered quickly, slightly embarrassed that she'd acted that way in front of Jones, and shook her head. Grabbing a piece of bacon and crunching into it, she shot a look over at Jones that suggested not to say anything else.

"No I haven't, Kiddo. Sorry."

The last thing Emma wanted to do was give him false hope before she was sure her memory was actually returning.

Henry shrugged and sat back down to continue eating. He grabbed his juice and looked between her and Jones. "So how did you like your cupcake?"

Emma's eyes grew wide at her son as she swallowed a bite of her donut. "It was _your_ idea?"

Henry looked mischievously over at Jones. "Well, no. It was his idea, but he didn't know what a cupcake was. So… while you were getting gas, I helped him buy one."

She couldn't help the smile that crept onto her face when she caught Jones' eye at Henry's confession. "And the candle?"

Jones answered her before taking a bite. "Nurse's station was quite helpful, luv."

He was grinning at her with a mouthful of pancake, syrup running down into his beard. Emma was sure she thought Jones a handsome man, but she never believed he could look adorable until now.

"Well thank you _both_," she said, keeping eye contact with Jones as she put her arm around Henry.

Jones bowed his head slightly and threw a wink in her direction as she noticed Regina and Robin hurrying over toward them.

"There you are; I was waiting for you outside of your room. We need to get moving."

Emma glanced at her cell to see that they had twenty minutes to get to Town Hall. She took one last bite of her eggs and grabbed what was left of her bear claw and cocoa.

"Do I get to come?" Henry was standing now, looking excited.

Emma met Regina's eyes, and took her expression to mean that it would be best if he didn't.

"Henry, why don't you stay here and watch over Neal." She saw his face fall slightly, and Emma grasped his shoulder. "You don't want him to be alone when he wakes up, right?"

Henry met her eyes and shook his head. "No, you're right. I'll stay."

"Besides, Robin will be with you, Henry." Regina patted Robin's shoulder when he made his way over to them. She smiled at Henry reassuringly. "After all, I can't marry any man before _you _approve, can I?"

Henry looked determined then, meeting Robin's stare. "You're right about that!"

Emma kissed Henry's cheek and thanked him one more time for her birthday breakfast. Glancing over her shoulder as she watched Regina hug them goodbye, Emma called for Jones.

He was beside her in seconds, wiping his face with a napkin. "Afraid you're going to miss me, luv?"

Emma took one last bite of her doughnut before throwing the rest in a trash can. "No, I just need to be sure someone's standing in front of me if the Wicked Witch and her monkeys show up."

As Regina joined them and they made their way out the main exit, Emma heard Jones give a loud huff.

"Who the hell keeps a bloody primate as a pet?"

* * *

"So let me get this straight…" Emma was doing her best to keep up between Regina and Jones' explanation of everything that had happened since her and Henry left for New York. Backing into a spot outside of Town Hall, she continued.

"My parents are still trapped in the Enchanted Forest, but the witch sent you all here so you couldn't use your magic?" Emma directed her question at Regina and put the car in park.

Regina nodded while she and Jones removed their seatbelts. "I believe that's what happened, yes."

Removing the keys from the ignition, Emma turned to face Regina in the backseat. "Ok, so if magic doesn't work here, why was I able to light a candle with it last night?"

Regina's eyes went wide and she looked over to Jones to gauge his reaction. "She used magic?"

"Indeed she did," Jones said with a tone of bragging in his voice. "It was brilliant." Emma felt her cheeks flush, but focused on Regina.

"What does that mean? Is there a way we can break the curse and get everyone back home?"

Regina seemed to be deep in thought, as if she was solving a Calculus problem in her head. "Well, I don't know about breaking the curse, but if you're able to use magic, we may have a chance against the Wicked Witch."

Emma watched as Regina stepped out of the backseat, she and Jones following closely behind. "So, if I'm the only one who has used magic here so far, how were you able to make those potions for us?"

Regina snapped from her brief reverie. "I have a hint of magical ability, but potion making is more about the ingredients you have and the time it takes to brew it. Sheer magical power is what we really need."

Despite what happened last night, Emma doubted highly that her little bit of magic was powerful enough to bring down a witch who could curse an entire town.

"What makes you think that my magic is powerful enough, then?"

Regina didn't hesitate for a second, her tone suggesting the obvious. "Because of your parents."

Emma heard the laughter of children playing on a set of swings nearby and she allowed herself a moment to enjoy the simplicity of it, despite everything.

"Oh right, the true love thing," Emma said, her words dripping with sarcasm.

Jones seemed to notice her disbelief and stepped toward her. "Being the product of true love has made your magic remarkable, Emma. You just need to realize how much so that you may utilize it."

Emma saw Regina nod her head, seeming to agree with Jones. "Yes, but for now we need a plan of action until your memory is restored. I can try and train you, but that will take time and we may not have much of that left."

Blowing out all the air in her lungs, Emma leaned back on the hood of the car, covering her face in her hands. "Can't we just throw some water on the bitch or something?"

She caught the look between Regina and Jones, one that portrayed absolute confusion. "What are you on about, luv?"

Emma straightened again and was surprised to get such a reaction. "Water. Water isn't her weakness?"

Neither of them said anything, but rather stared at her dumbfounded.

_Isn't there anything true about these damn stories?_

Deciding to brush past it, Emma made her way toward the Town Hall building. "Ok, forget it. Why are we talking to the town, anyway?"

"We need to get everyone on board with a backup plan in case we can't defeat her directly. Besides, if they see you've returned, it may give them hope."

Emma paused in the doorway and turned to them both. "Look, just so we're clear. Magic or no magic, I'm not anyone's damn Savior. I just want to make sure Henry is safe and we get back where we belong."

Jones moved on ahead into the hall, but Regina grabbed Emma's arm, stopping her. She noticed her pull something out from a purse, and was baffled at what she saw.

"Emma, no one besides Robin and Hook know I have this. I need you to follow my lead in there and do exactly what I say."

* * *

The people all seemed like any small town residents, their clothing more modern than Emma would have thought for characters that she grew up reading about.

Of course, she was learning quickly that what she thought was true, was the furthest thing from it.

Everyone seemed anxious, speaking together in hushed voices and curious looks in Emma's direction. She saw Jones and Regina greeting a few of the people with handshakes and awkward hugs.

Suddenly, there was someone grasping her arm and Emma turned to see a middle-aged man with thinning hair and glasses. He smiled at her timidly and made eye contact.

"Hello, Emma. I'm not sure how much you remember of me, but I'm Jiminy….well, Archie. Some people call me Dr. Hopper, but you've always just called me Archie."

_Did he just say Jiminy? Like, Jiminy Cricket? _

Emma gave him a polite smile and shook his hand, not really knowing what to say. "Hi there."

He didn't miss a beat, and started rambling before she could say anything else. "I'm so glad that you and Henry are alright. Regina tells me that he already has his memory back, which doesn't surprise me in the least. Henry never doubted the truth about our pasts, even when the rest of us did. He's a very resilient young man."

Yeah, that was Henry. This guy certainly seemed to know him very well, and before Emma could ask how, a young red-haired woman approached them.

"Emma, thank goodness. We were all so worried about you and Henry." Emma didn't have time to react before the woman pulled her in for an embrace.

She heard Archie address her as "Belle," and Emma only a second to guess which character she represented.

Belle must have noticed the hesitation on Emma's features, because her smile fell. "Oh, I'm sorry. Regina said you've been through so much. I want you to know that we all have faith that you'll defeat whatever this evil is and get us home." She stepped away, but kept her hand on Emma's shoulder.

"I'll do what I can," she mumbled, and it seemed to placate Belle and Archie both.

Excusing herself to go up and join Regina, who had now walked to the front of the room as if to address everyone, Emma noticed others nodding to her familiarly.

It was quite unnerving to realize that other people knew more about your own life than you did.

Emma wasn't sure what she was supposed to do in preparation for meeting all of these people. Regina had said "follow her lead," but didn't explain what she was supposed to say to anyone, just that she shouldn't make it obvious that her memories hadn't returned.

Regina motioned for Emma to join her and she clapped her hands to get everyone's attention. "Excuse me, let's all settle down, please."

The crowd noise quieted and everyone took a seat. Emma noticed that a majority of the residents were looking at her, rather than Regina.

"Now, I know everyone came here to get more answers on what's happening. Emma and Henry did, indeed, return last night and crossed the town line without any harm done."

A few people made noises and gestures of relief, some of them whispering to each other as Regina continued.

"We're happy to inform you that we've devised a plan and have everything under control." Emma briefly peeked over at Regina, but her expression was determined. "Since we've figured out how to defeat this evil, we'll need your complete cooperation if we are to succeed."

A woman to Emma's right stood up and placed her hands on her hips, looking at Regina. "If Storybrooke isn't safe, we should go back to the Enchanted Forest with the rest of our loved ones."

There were various noises made in agreement and Emma saw Belle step forward. "The Blue Fairy is right. We need to be better informed about what's happening." Belle continued, this time speaking directly to Emma. "Do you _know_ who cursed us?"

There was another general wave of muttering and Regina nodded to Emma with a look of confidence, giving her the floor. Without thinking, Emma turned to everyone awaiting her response.

"Well, uh, I know that you all must be scared." She took another shaky breath, noting the smell of cedar from the benches some were sitting on. "To tell you the truth, so am I."

Emma could hear sounds of grumbling at that in response, noticing a few people were holding each other's hands in anticipation.

She felt herself shaking, the heat rising in her throat, and Emma suddenly felt so inadequate. She couldn't give these people the answers they were looking for or the hope that Regina said they all needed. Emma, herself, was still trying to decipher the truth hidden within all of this mess.

Considering the idea to sit down and let Regina take over again, Emma caught Jones' eye in the crowd. He was standing in the very back, his arms folded over his chest, and he gave her a poignant look of encouragement. She felt her strength return and took a deep breath before continuing.

"Look, I won't tell you that we have all the answers and I can't promise you that this plan will work." Emma saw Regina shoot her a glare out of the corner of her eye.

"But if all of us can work together and trust one another, I _do _believe that we'll somehow find a way back to where we belong."

Suddenly she felt Regina standing next to her, the other woman's hand on her shoulder, before adding something else herself. "And believing in even the possibility of a happy ending is a very powerful thing."

There was a flash in her mind and Emma saw the woman with short, dark hair from her dreams. These were the same words she had said to Emma; something that had really struck her at the time.

Emma could see people in the crowd nodding their head in agreement and looking at each other with support and determination.

They had both invoked a feeling of hope in the room and Emma never felt so empowered. For the first time, she believed that her and Regina could work well together.

Emma turned her head toward Regina and kept her voice just low enough that only she could hear. "Nice touch there, at the end."

Regina made eye contact with Emma and smiled slightly. "Those were the words of your mother."

Her mother. She was the woman from Emma's dreams. They had so many genuine conversations with each other, and she was sure that they were close at some point. Emma now understood that reuniting Henry with the rest of their family, had to be her top priority.

The crowd noise died down a bit and Emma saw a very short, balding man with a scruffy beard stand up in the front row. She noticed he was surrounded by six other short men and her eyebrows shot upward.

_The seven dwarves._

"Hang on sisters," he said in a gruff tone. "If there is a plan, then shouldn't we all know what it is? We want to get back to Snow and Charming as much as anyone."

Regina stepped forward in front of Emma then, and opened to her mouth to respond, but was cut off.

The sizeable boom had nearly brought the roof down around them. Emma steadied herself and tried to make sense of what had caused the noise, the town residents beginning to panic.

"Was that an explosion?" Regina's voice was loud over the screaming around them and Emma could see through a nearby window that she was probably correct, the smoke and flames rising in the distance.

Archie entered the building, apparently having gone outside to see what caused the commotion. "It was the library," he said breathless, his eyeglasses askew from running. "It's gone."

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**A/N: Ok folks, this is where I really start to take the story in a different direction. Let me know what you enjoyed so far, what you'd like to see happen in the coming chapters, or just join me in my agony from CaptainSwan withdrawal :)**

**Next chapter: Regina gets a secret revealed, family members are reunited, and the residents of Storybrooke are seeing GREEN.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thanks to every single one of you who have favorited, followed, and/or reviewed so far. I didn't realize how much it meant to have someone review your story until I was on the writer's end of it, so thank you very much :) I also want to acknowledge J-J-Sawyer-Phillips for agreeing to beta this story from here on out, as it's quite a generous thing to do for another writer and I appreciate it a great deal. **

**As you may have noticed, I have changed the rating to "M" permanently to allow for certain future events, but I will continue to specify the rating by chapter so you're warned beforehand. **

**Rating: T for mild language and violence.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own ****_Once Upon a Time _****or its characters, sadly. What they do in the coming chapters, however, is all up to me.**

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Emma had barely a second to react to Archie's words and there was a mad dash to the exit, people shoving one another to get out of the building.

She started to make her way to the door, but Regina grabbed her wrist. "Emma, remember what I said before. No matter what happens, stick to the plan."

Emma racked her brain quickly to try and recall everything Regina had said as they both made their way out of Town Hall.

They were met with the stench of scorched wood and Emma did her best to see past the cloud of smoke from only blocks away. What had been the library was now a pile of rubble and flame.

"Understand what you need to do, Darling?" Jones' hand found hers and Emma squeezed it involuntarily.

Giving him a quick nod and dropping his hand, Emma turned her attention back to Regina as the remaining residents hurried out of the door. Some people were now yelling for one another, others getting into vehicles and driving away.

"Regina, what the hell was that? I thought you said the witch wasn't here yet." Emma didn't even wait for a response, her head swiveling side to side hoping to catch a glimpse of any other danger.

"We don't know it was her for sure, but if it was, I don't understand why she'd use the library to send a message."

They heard screams coming from the direction of the explosion and the three took off quickly towards them. It didn't take long to realize that a large circle of people had gathered around something directly outside of the library site.

Regina wasted little time and pushed the residents out of the way to see a burly man writhing in pain, his arm looking badly burnt. Archie and Belle were knelt down beside him, checking his wound.

"Anton, are you alright?" Archie was checking him carefully, the skin already blistering through the large tear in his shirt.

Regina didn't wait for a response. "What happened here? Did you see anything?"

Anton turned his attention their way with a look of aggravation, but it changed to surprise once he noticed Emma. "Hey, Emma. I heard you were back, but I-"

"Yeah, yeah. Tell us what you saw, giant."

He frowned at her words and glanced at Archie, indicating he was ok. "I was making my way to the meeting when the library exploded. Luckily, I have pretty good reflexes and was able to dodge most of the flying debris. That's about the time that I into an old friend of yours."

He was looking right at Regina, his face now calm as he made eye contact. "She was looking for you_._"

Emma turned to Regina for a reaction, but never heard the woman's response.

"That's _right_," a raspy voice said behind them. Everyone in the crowd turned, the gap opening again to reveal a slim, very tall woman dressed in black.

Her strawberry-blonde hair was pulled up into a messy bun and was covered by a wide brimmed, black hat. The collar on her robes encircled her neck and stuck out over her like an ominous plume of feathers on a peacock. Emma didn't need an introduction for this character, the green complexion giving her away immediately.

"I have indeed been looking for you, Regina." The witch grinned viciously and Emma was pretty sure she'd never been so scared of a smile before.

The crowd began to back away from them, Emma and Jones remaining by Regina's side. Emma felt him pull her back slightly, his hand wrapping around her waist and she felt a sudden wave of exhilaration shoot through her body. Emma stopped their retreat, though, resisting the urge to flee.

"Well aren't you going to welcome me to your town, _Your Majesty_?" The witch was only feet from them and her voice was dripping with sarcasm as she continued. "I believe it's your turn to bow to _me."_

Emma wasn't surprised that Regina had enemies after what Jones had told her in the car. It was clear something had happened between the two women and the witch had come to settle the score.

Regina remained silent, her face stoic as the witch continued her taunting. "No? Very well then; I see I'll have to assist you."

The witch waved her hand, creating green, ropelike binds to wrap around Regina's arms and forcing her to her knees, the thud of bone meeting pavement making Emma wince.

A loud, sinister cackle rang out around them and Emma saw a few people cower defensively.

Suddenly, she was being dragged away and realized that Jones wasn't letting her decide this time. Emma backpedaled slowly, keeping her gaze on the two women in front of them. The witch didn't seem to notice, now hunched over close to the side of Regina's face.

"Where is it, Regina?" Emma heard the witch's question, despite her apparent attempt to keep her voice low. "I know you are in possession of it, so hand it over now and I'll make your death a quick one."

Suddenly, Emma heard Belle's accented tone over the stark silence of the crowd. "Get the hell away from her you-"

The witch moved quickly, cutting off Belle's words with another wave of her hand. Emma turned to see that all of the town residents besides herself were frozen, like someone had pressed the pause button on a remote. She glanced back and was relieved to see that it hadn't affected Jones either.

"There, that's more cozy," she said with another wicked smile that didn't reach her eyes.

This was nothing like seeing the small spark on the candle, or even driving across the border into Storybrooke. This magic was dark and Emma suddenly realized the true gravity of the situation.

In spite of her fear and before she could stop herself, Emma's voice rang out over the street. "Where is _what_? What is she talking about Regina?"

The witch snapped her head up to look directly at Emma, which sent chills down her spine. She could feel Jones tense beside her and Emma tried the best she could not to react to the witch's stare, her icy blue eyes penetrating her own.

"Ah, the child prodigy all grown up," the witch said as she slowly moved her way over to them. "I knew I'd eventually get _you_, my pretty."

She reached her long, bony fingers toward them and Emma could see that her nails were pointed and as green as her complexion. Emma noticed her eyes flicker to Jones. "And your little pirate, too."

Emma braced herself for whatever was coming next, but instead felt Jones' grip tighten around her. "Keep your filthy hands off her, you hag."

The witch didn't even flinch, but gave a scornful laugh in response. "Oh, how sweet. Perhaps we should consider sparing you both." She leaned in to Emma this time, the witch's hot breath causing the hair to stand on the back of Emma's neck. "After all, I always was a sucker for a love story."

Regina finally broke her silence, the words echoing out into the street. "You could have taken what you wanted in the Enchanted Forest. Why did you really come here?"

The witch swung around at the statement and was next to Regina in an instant, circling her slowly. "The same reason you did." The witch paused a second to lean in closer. "Family truly _is_ everything, isn't it Regina?"

Emma and Regina made eye contact and her face displayed fear for the first time since they'd met. Emma realized why immediately, her stomach dropping. The only relative that Regina held dear to her was Henry.

_Oh God, please no._

Regina was still on her knees, the magical binds holding her in place. Emma noticed that one of her hands was reaching for something in her pocket, and she suddenly understood what Regina was up to. She felt Jones give her a small squeeze and realized that he was in on it too.

"Well what are you waiting for then? I know she's here," Regina said, pausing in her struggle to look around them.

Confused, Emma narrowed her eyes and glanced around for any signs of movement, but heard the person Regina was talking about before she appeared.

"Well, well. Aren't we perceptive, as always."

Emma felt a presence sweep past them from behind and Regina's eyes grew wide. Another woman, who Emma had never seen before, took her time before reaching Regina.

The woman turned, her curly blonde hair billowing under a crown that made her look like she had horns and the eyeliner she was wearing would put Jones' to shame.

The Wicked Witch looked down at Regina and sneered. "I believe you remember Malecifent, my sister."

_Sister?_ She heard Jones gasp behind her and Emma tried not to feel satisfied that he was surprised for a change. He hadn't mentioned her in the car at all and Emma briefly wondered why Regina hadn't either.

Regina's expression showed no further signs of fear and she met Malecifent head on. "And here I thought Hook finished you off down in that cave; although I can't say it did much to improve your complexion."

Malecifent didn't appear amused, but shrugged the comment off. "Yes, well you and I both know that I can't be destroyed that easily." She looked at the witch, a hint of satisfaction emerging on her face. "Luckily, I had a talented sister brew me a potion which allows me to return to my original form at will."

She turned to Regina again, her face serious. "You'll be sorry for double-crossing me, Regina. Twice," she added bitterly.

"If you remember correctly, I wasn't the only one who betrayed you," Regina spat out. Emma noticed that she had resumed trying to free the object from her pocket.

Malecifent suddenly waved her hand viciously, causing Regina to double over in pain. "Silence! You've brought this on yourself. I warned you about using the Dark Curse, didn't I?"

Where her sister's voice was rough like sandpaper, Malecifent's was smooth and sweet, which frightened Emma even more due to the contradiction of her menacing words.

Regina was breathing heavily, her body still showing signs of anguish. "You were never satisfied with what you had, always playing with other people's lives. Now they all must pay for your miscalculations."

Suddenly, Malecifent moved her attention away from Regina and Emma saw her turn in their direction. "So, we meet again, Savior." Emma swallowed hard, knowing that if the story was right about this one, she could be turned into a crisp in seconds.

"After Daddy-dearest hid that potion deep inside of me, I was sure no one would be able to retrieve it," she said, giving Emma a cold smile. "But _you_ did, didn't you?"

Emma quickly scanned her memory of what Jones and Regina had told her and seemed to recall something about her defeating a dragon with an egg hidden inside of it to try and rescue Henry.

Keeping an arm's distance from her and Jones, Malecifient twirled a blonde curl of Emma's hair around one of her fingers, on which Emma noticed a gold ring that seemed to turn a purplish hue at certain angles. "My fight is with Regina, but removing you from the picture is just the icing on the cake."

Unwillingly, Emma raised her eyes to meet Malecifient's yellowish ones, appearing more sinister than she was prepared for. She opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off.

"You'll have to go through me first."

She laughed for the first time, the sound melodic, but still eerie and unsettling. "Well hello there, Captain. I see you have another female to fawn over. Women always were your weakness, weren't they?" Her skin was almost a pale green, not bright like her sister's, but Emma swore she saw a flash of red appear briefly on her cheeks.

_You have got to be kidding me._

Jones responded without a hint of amusement in his voice. "I've taken you down once, Malecifent and I won't hesitate to do it again."

She gave him a sardonic grin, her lips shut tightly. "I'll deal with you both soon enough, but first…" she raised a finger, "I believe you've stolen something of mine, Regina."

As she made her way back over, Regina kept her eyes to the ground, cold and unwavering. The Wicked Witch squeezed her hand into a fist and Regina strained against the magical binds holding her together like a horse being pulled from a set of reigns.

Emma spotted something fall to the ground and recognized it immediately as the object Regina was trying to pry free. She did her best not to let anyone else be the wiser and redirected her gaze to Regina's face.

"It was never yours to begin with, but I don't have it, Malecifent. It seems your sister's wild theory regarding the wand has wasted your time."

Even from a good distance away, Emma could see Malecifent's sneer in response to that. She laid her hand flat out in front of Regina as if to ask for her to hand it over, but to everyone's surprise, a wand appeared there from thin air.

"You mean _this_ wand, Regina?"

Emma heard Jones mumble something in surprise and saw confusion and euphoria written on the Wicked Witch's face. "When did you come into possession of the Black Wand?"

Malecifent sniggered, waving her wand hand carelessly to indicate a feeling of indifference. "Oh, sister. I happen to know that Regina always keeps her most prized possessions locked away in her vault." She leaned down, then, her face only inches from Regina's and continued. "One of the _many _perks of being friends with her for so long, you see."

Regina looked livid, her eyes now searching for what Emma had seen fall out onto the ground before.

Suddenly, she heard Jones' angry tone beside her. "What the bloody hell are you doing with it, Regina? You know the Blue Fairy has been searching for that for over a _year_ now."

Regina slowly pulled her attention back to Jones, appearing guilty and slightly apologetic.

"Well, well Regina. It looks as if you're still lying to those who are foolish enough to trust you." Malecifent shook her head in mock disappointment. "But no matter. The time for secret sharing is over."

Without warning, Malecifent flicked the wrist of her wand hand and every single one of residents who had been frozen, disappeared into a cloud of purple smoke.

Emma jerked her head back to Regina to see her struggling against her binds once again. Regina's face was red with rage and she was yelling at Maleficent now. "What did you do to them?"

"Relax, my dear. They're still alive and well… for now. They, along with your lovely son and hooded boy toy, are back at home where they await their fate."

_Henry._

Emma's heart was in her throat and she felt Jones attempts to pull her back before she could act.

He wasn't fast enough.

Sprinting toward them with everything she could, Emma felt herself being yanked back suddenly, helpless to defend against the magic of the wand. She slammed against a tree, purple ropes pinning her to the trunk. She heard Jones' grunt as his body struck against the other side next to her with force.

"Always trying to play the hero; just like your foolish parents," Malecifent scolded and Emma heard the Wicked Witch's croaky laugh, like someone with a cold trying to clear their throat.

She could feel the blood trickling down her arms from where she must have scratched roughly against the bark. The blinding rage and adrenaline that had come on suddenly, was slowly ebbing away, the pain and regret now humming through Emma's body.

_Well, so much for "the plan."_

Regina was breathing heavily, apparently forgetting all resemblance of calm. She looked up to the Wicked Witch, her tone malicious. "You should have stayed in Oz with your monkey minions." Turning to Malecifent, she added: "And if you touch a hair on my son's head, you'll wish you'd died down in that damn cave."

Malecifent didn't react, but the witch smiled wickedly, waving her hands in mock horror. "Oooo, perhaps we should make our travel arrangements right away."

Suddenly though, her face turned cold, speaking to no one in particular. "After that bitch Dorothy 'accidentally' killed my twin sister, I thought I was finished too. Luckily, I escaped to survive in Pan-"

"Enough, sister! We have what we came for." Maleficent placed a ghostlike hand on the witch. "Go now, to the Enchanted Forest, to ensure all is in order until I can join you. I'll deal with these three."

The witch nodded in agreement and turned to catch Emma's gaze. "Nice to have met you, Savior. Sorry it had to be cut so short, but I'll be sure to give Mom and Dad your regards."

With one last cackle, the witch disappeared into a puff of green smoke.

Emma saw Malecifent turn back to Regina and decided it was time to start thinking of Plan B. Fighting against the rope, she heard Jones whisper over to her.

"You see it lying next to Regina, don't you luv?" He was bound very close to her, his fingers lightly brushing up against hers as he struggled.

She nodded her head slowly, hoping that Malecifent wouldn't catch on to their interaction. She could hear Regina cry out in pain and saw her try and reach for the object next to her again.

Suddenly, Emma decided to take action.

"Hey Mistress!" Emma's voice echoed in the empty street, the howling wind and crackling fire from the explosion, the only other sounds to be heard.

Malecifent's head snapped up to meet her gaze, as Emma continued. "Yeah, Mistress of all evil, right?" She seemed curious that Emma knew her nickname, now moving slowly in their direction.

"It was you who sent me that message, wasn't it? In the restaurant…. you used it to get me back to Storybrooke so you could destroy both of us, didn't you?"

A part of Emma wanted to confirm her suspicions regarding the message, but really focused her attention on maintaining a diversion for Regina as long as possible.

Malecifent narrowed her vivid eyes, the dilating of her pupils indicating a keen interest. Nothing about her features, though, suggested she understood what Emma had meant.

A sly grin slowly appeared on her face and Malecifent finally spoke. "No hard feelings, I hope? We can't take a chance on you getting your memory back and your powers restored. Aww, no need to fret, my dear. I'll make this quick for you and lover boy here."

Her smile disappeared then, and Emma's blood ran cold at her expression. "Unfortunately, I can't say the same for the rest of your family."

Suddenly there was a flash of green light, blinding Emma momentarily and startling Malecifent, who stumbled backwards, turning toward the source.

Regina had somehow gotten to her feet and was standing next to a swirling vortex, Emma knew had been caused by the magic bean. She recognized the portal from the dream she'd had about the ghostly figure.

"Regina, go!" Emma didn't even hesitate, the words coming out of her mouth on instinct.

Malecifent let out a sound of anger and pulled her wand out again.

She saw Regina pause, apparently torn for a moment, as Malecifent hurried toward her. Emma caught her eyes with a determined gaze. "Regina, Henry needs you. Go."

There was a brief look of understanding and regret before Regina hurled herself into the portal, her arms still bound by magic.

She heard Jones' stressed words beside her and Emma knew they must be running out of time. "Do it now, Emma."

She understood without asking, closing her eyes and picturing Henry. She had to get back to him somehow. His face appeared before her and Emma flashed her eyes back open to see Malecifent drop her wand as if having been burnt by it.

The ropes holding them to the tree snapped off and Jones was pulling her toward the portal, running past Malecifent who was still swearing and reeling from pain.

Emma saw the portal start to close and heard Jones yell for her to hurry as they picked up their pace. Leaping forward into the swirling void, Emma had little to consider except the pull around her navel, her body being helplessly sucked into the green abyss, and Malecifent's loud wail of fury from behind them.

They both landed with a loud thud, the snapping of sticks giving way to their bodies' weight. Emma took a second to catch her breath and glanced over to see Jones slow to get to his feet, stuffing something back into his pocket.

Suddenly his good hand was gently pulling her up and Emma winced slightly, realizing she had landed badly on her right ankle. He noticed immediately and gripped her shoulder. "Are you alright, Darling?"

Emma nodded slowly, finally taking in their surroundings.

She and Jones were surrounded by trees, having apparently landed in some kind of forest. The covering of leaves above them was thick, letting only a few strong rays of light to pierce through the canopy and illuminate a few objects like stones, broken branches, and small plant life.

Coming to her senses, Emma looked around and shouted out. "Regina. Regina, are you here?" Her voice echoed through the silence of the forest, not even the sound of singing birds to be heard.

_Ok, this is weird._

"Do you think she's with Henry?" She glanced over at Jones, but he wasn't looking for Regina, seemingly distracted by the strange atmosphere.

"What the bloody…?" Jones was peering up into the trees, no view of the sky being possible due to the foliage. Emma knew it was daylight, but there was certainly no way to tell given the surroundings.

Where Storybrooke had been chilly from the late October winds, this place was warm and the air quite thick around them. Though having been awake for hours already, Emma felt almost relaxed and lethargic, like losing herself in a hot bath after a long day at work.

Emma saw Jones staring into a puddle only a few feet away and narrowed her eyes. "As lovely as it may be, now's not the time to stare at your reflection, Jones. Do you know where we are?"

He didn't appear to have heard her, moving onto another puddle nearby. Giving up on him, Emma took the opportunity to look around a bit more. She noticed a piece of wood peeking out from layers of moss, lit up by a stray beam of sunlight.

It looked like it might have been a sign at one time, the black writing on it only somewhat legible. Seeming a little worse for wear, Emma carefully removed as much of the moss as she could and revealed a majority of the words engraved there.

_Make your c-oice, ad-turous S-rang-r  
Strik- the -ell and bide the d-nger  
Or wa-der, till it driv-s you mad  
What wo-ld hav- foll-wed if you -ad_

Reading the words out loud to herself, Emma felt a bit foolish, since it wasn't entirely clear. It seemed odd that someone would leave a sign with a strange limerick in the middle of the woods like that. She was about to call Jones over, when his voice rang out.

"This is it, luv. Come quickly."

Taking the wooden sign with her, she walked over to where Jones was standing over a puddle, her eyes now narrowing in annoyance. "What is up with you and the puddl-?" She stopped in her tracks, feeling the twinge from her twisted ankle, and stared down in shock.

What had appeared to be a puddle was actually a pool, deep and as clear as a summer sky. There was a mountain range shining through, like a scenic painting, and Emma glanced up at Jones in confusion. "What _is_ that?"

He didn't meet her gaze, but was looking into the pool as if preparing for something to jump out of it at them. "That's where we need to go. Here, grasp onto my hand."

Another portal? Oh, this was her lucky day for sure. Emma was starting to think they should have taken their chances with Malecifent.

Sensing her hesitation, Jones grabbed her hand in his, and she was surprised to find it didn't generate the heat between them that she normally felt. She dropped the sign, now forgetting it all together.

He wasted no time and murmured something about bracing herself, before tugging them into the pool. They landed hard again, this time into a shallow river, the water running over them quickly.

Shrieking in surprise, Emma got to her feet and made her way over to the riverbank, Jones closely in tow. She took off her boots, the suction of air causing a loud slurp, and Emma shot him a glare. "Just _great_, Jones. Where are we anyway? If that wasn't your homeland back there, then what-"

"_Our_ homeland, Darling, and I believe we had better get moving." He was checking his pockets now, probably ensuring everything in them was still there. Emma removed a muddy leaf from her hair after squeezing as much water as she could from her shirt, opening her mouth to make a retort.

She was interrupted by the sound of hooves galloping behind them, the only reason she had been slightly warned before being surrounded. At first, she had thought it was an army of mounted men, possibly cavalry, but looking more closely she realized that they weren't actually men.

They weren't _completely_ men.

Having read about them, even seeing a few in movies, had not prepared Emma for what stood before her. Encircling the two of them, all armed with weapons, were half a dozen centaurs.

Emma slowly grabbed onto Jones' arm and held her breath as the largest one stepped forward, his voice robust and genteel.

"I am known as General Castrix, leader of the Second Council's Army. State your business here. Why have you entered our kingdom?"

He had the upper body of a man; his chest was muscular and dusted with dark, curly hair. At the waist, however, was a horse's body covered in black fur. His front hoof dug into the ground as if he was irritated and suddenly all of the soldiers raised their lances, keeping her and Jones in the center of the circle.

"Easy, mates." Jones was holding his arms out in surrender, stepping in front of Emma as if to shield her. "She's just trying to get back to her young one. We're not here to cause harm, I assure you."

The general's long, wispy tail swished back and forth as he met Jones' gaze. "Who are you, strangers?"

Jones' smirk reached both eyes and his voice suddenly sounded relaxed. "This beautiful creature behind me is Emma Swan, daughter of King David and Queen Snow. I, my good man, am Captain Killian Jones, but also go by my more recognizable moniker: Captain Hook."

None of them seemed to recognize the name, which Emma was inwardly thankful for due to his notoriety. However, it didn't seem to matter much, as the general's stern look remained. "Seize them."

Jones struggled against centaurs' grasp, Emma hearing him still trying to smooth talk his way out of it. Finally finding her voice, she looked up to the general. "Under whose authority do you take us prisoner?"

He directly met Emma's gaze, then. His frown ebbed slowly from his face and was replaced by mild surprise. Emma noticed that his dark, scruffy beard twitched as he spoke again. "The only authority that matters, milady; that of King Andrew."

_Who? _

Emma tried to recall whether she's heard that name in any tale, when she felt the cold metal of the cuffs bite into her wrists, the centaur soldier's whinnies reaching her ears.

The general motioned for the group to move ahead, as he stayed to the rear, the centaurs moving in a perfect line. Jones was still struggling under his restraints and calling back to Emma from the front.

Suddenly the general turned to Emma, showing the only sign of mirth on his face since they arrived, his wide grin displaying perfect, white teeth that glimmered in the sunlight.

"We bid you welcome, Lady Emma, to the kingdom of Narnia."

* * *

**A/N: Ok, for those of you who have read ****_The Chronicles of Narnia _****series: just know that this will NOT follow the exact timeline and/or events of the books, and therefore will not be considered canon to C.S. Lewis' series. If you're like me and haven't read all of the books, don't worry. You won't need to have any background knowledge of the series, as it will not be considered a cross-over****. Hook and Emma won't be in Narnia long, but plenty will happen while they are :)**

**Next Chapter: Hook makes a mistake by offending the wrong creature and Emma's recent suspicions are confirmed.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Ok, for those of you who may be worried that this story has taken a major turn into the world of Narnia, don't be. This is just a brief pit stop along the way for Hook and Emma's journey and will only be for a couple chapters. Believe me when I say this; it is important to the development of the plot. Thanks to all who favorite/follow and to those few who still review after the chapters- I appreciate it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own ****_Once Upon a Time _****or its characters****_, _****but I've got plenty in store for them****_. _****I also don't own any characters or places from C.S. Lewis' ****_Chronicles of Narnia_**** series.**

**This chapter's rating: T for violence and borderline-M for language.**

* * *

_Narnia? They were in freakin' Narnia?!_

How the hell did they end up here, of all places? Jones had seemed as confused as she was when they landed in that strange forest, but seemed sure about the portal pool they jumped into.

_What a time to make a mistake, pirate._

Emma took a deep breath, attempting to let everything from the past two hours to sink into her brain. She barely noticed the aching pain from where she had sprained her right ankle or the thumping of hooves on dirt, their captors dragging her and Jones along in chains.

This wasn't happening.

There weren't two witches with an all-encompassing power at their disposal, bent on making Emma's friends and family suffer. She wasn't just taken prisoner by group of hostile centaurs claiming to be part of a magical land other than the one her son had been sent to.

Emma didn't know whether Henry was safe or if he had found the people he trusted and cared for. As much as she didn't want to admit, the time for hoping that all of this wasn't real, was over. And now she didn't even have Henry with her to get through it all.

She wasn't powerful enough to defend against these new forces. All of this had blindsided her so quickly; like being punched in the stomach from an attacker you didn't see coming. Or like being set up for a crime you didn't commit and abandoned by the one person in this world you cared anything for.

Emma felt like she was seventeen again, alone and helpless.

Without thinking, she started to yell, her voice shrill over the babbling river. "I need to find my son! You don't understand; you can't just take us like this. We haven't done anything wrong. Please-"

The centaur closest to her tugged the restraints, forcing Emma to fall against his brawny form, the force knocking the wind from her lungs. His musk of sweat and earth filled her nose as she struggled to regain her balance.

"We need to keep moving." The general's command was deep and authoritative as he hovered nearby, his tone leaving little room for sympathy.

Emma felt herself start to hyperventilate, doubling over and trying to maintain some sense of awareness. She heard Jones' chains clanging together and saw him kneel next to her in seconds.

"Come now lass, you need to try and stay calm. We're going to get out of here and find Henry."

It was like he had read her mind and knew exactly the words needed to bring Emma back to reality. His good hand traced lazy circles on her back and she felt her breathing start to regulate.

She pulled her head up to meet his eyes, seeing his look of determination. "You have my word, Emma."

Her eyes prickling with hot tears, she nodded slowly and made her way to stand up. Emma winced in pain, having to put weight on her right ankle, and Jones noticed.

"Are you injured?" He suddenly looked up to the centaur holding Emma's chains and let out a growl. "If you've hurt her you wanker, I swear I'll-"

"I just fell when we landed in the woods," Emma cut him off. She noticed the muscles rippling over the centaur's body and realized that Jones would be lucky to finish his sentence, let alone finish this fight. "I'm fine, really."

The furrow of his brow told Emma that he still wasn't pleased with the centaur, but Jones seemed placated for now. Glancing over at her ankle, his expression softened. "Can you walk, luv?"

Emma could see that the centaurs were getting annoyed by the holdup, the general heading back toward the front of the line. She nodded her head and put on a brave face to keep the peace.

She felt a sharp yank on the chains around her wrist, and they were pulled forward again by their captors. Jones turned around toward Emma as they marched and gave her a quick wink.

Emma couldn't help but let the realization sink in that no matter how dire their situation, this man could always make her smile.

* * *

They must have walked for at least two hours, and Emma figured that it must be well past noon now. The sun had slowly hid itself behind a mass of dark clouds, rain threatening to fall, but never coming.

Emma observed little in terms of plant and animal life, besides an occasional crow overhead or a small hare dashing between scattered shrubs. Trees could be seen along their route, but many were bare and seemed to droop as if they no longer had the strength to stay upright.

She noticed the air wasn't warm like that of the woods where the portal pools were, bringing with it a cold that seemed to run right through her bones. Strong winds stung Emma's face at times when there wasn't tree cover and she choked on the dust being kicked up from stomping hooves.

Despite the depth and width of the river they were following, the ground along the embankment only showed a few patches of stray grass poking through. This was certainly not a fertile area of the kingdom and Emma wondered how far they must be from the king's lodgings.

Her ankle was getting worse, the pain now stretching past the calf and up to her knee. Emma did her best not to hobble, since she wasn't sure whether these creatures would leave her behind or even kill her if she delayed their progress.

They moved closer to the river, the jagged terrain making it more difficult for her to keep her balance. Emma hoped desperately that they were going to break for water, as her throat felt parched and she wasn't sure whether her ankle could hold out much longer without a rest.

Suddenly her foot caught a group of rocks and she stumbled, falling into a nearby centaur's hind quarters with a heavy thump. Emma tumbled to the ground and she felt her ankle scream in protest as the centaur reared up in surprise.

Emma grabbed at her ankle, not caring who noticed. She could hear Jones yelling to her, his voice muffled by the various whinnies the rest of the centaurs.

The one she had run into was furious, redness showing through his dark complexion. Although covered almost completely in light brown fur, his angular face had the same features of a man, Emma guessed was no older than thirty.

"Idiot human," he snarled menacingly at her, pointing his lance at her sitting form, but Emma didn't cower away in the least.

She was tired of being pushed around by these hairy brutes without even an explanation as to where they were going or why they had been taken prisoner in the first place.

"Go ahead," she stared blankly back at him, her breath increasing as he stared right back. Emma did her best to maintain the bluff despite the anxiety pumping through her veins. "Go ahead and try to plunge that thing into me and see what happens."

For a moment Emma really believed that he would and she got to her feet quickly, her bound hands moving defensively in front of her as he pulled back the lance to attack.

"Stand down, Dorian." Emma knew the voice belonged to General Castrix, as she maintained eye contact with her would-be attacker.

His deep grey eyes dug fiercely into hers, waiting for Emma to blink or look away in fear, but she stood her ground. With a heavy snort, the soldier known as Dorian threw his lance back into the saddle holster and stomped away, his tail swishing behind him.

The general was moving everyone back into formation. "Enough of this foolishness. We are losing daylight and can't afford to be out here after dark."

Suddenly Jones was yelling again.

"You bloody barbarians!" A soldier pulled on Jones' chains, but he resisted, earning him a sharp kick from one of their captors. He cried out in pain, falling slightly, and Emma moved toward him without thinking. The general held out his sword to halt her.

Emma scowled up at him but noticed the general was gazing at Jones with an odd expression that resembled a mix of amusement and intrigue.

"The least the lot of you could do is allow her a ride for the remainder of this journey," Jones spat out, his breath ragged.

Every single one of the centaurs reacted, some of them drawing their weapons in haste and encircling Jones. The general no longer seemed amused, fury flashing across his features as he made his way over to the group.

"Allow her a ride? A _ride?_ Centaurs are not the slave creatures of humans, nor the mindless beasts you believe us to be. We are descendants of the only group entrusted with the survival of this land."

Jones seemed to understand immediately that he had said the wrong thing, clearly insulting the general and his soldiers. Still, he opened his mouth to make a retort before Emma cut him off.

"I don't need any assistance and can walk on my own. We didn't mean any disrespect." As much as a part of her really appreciated his gallantry, Emma didn't want Jones being throttled by a herd of centaurs on her account.

The general looked in her direction and Emma considered whether she had just made their situation worse. After a few moments, he raised his hand and the soldiers put away their weapons, Jones still glowering at them from the middle of the circle.

"Release him from bondage."

Emma did a double-take at Castrix, utterly shocked at the turn of events. His soldiers seemed equally confused, gaping at the general as if they hadn't heard him correctly.

"Release him," he repeated again, and the centaur closest to Jones unlocked his chains.

Quirking an eyebrow at the leader, Jones rubbed his left wrist and peered up at him. "Are you having a go at me, mate?"

Waiting a moment before speaking, the general swung his sword over his shoulder and back into its scabbard. "Not at all. We are about to cross this river and need to ensure that it is safe before we pass."

Emma's mind reeled at the various kinds of danger lurking within the river's depth and her heart began to quicken its pace once she realized that they were using Jones as bait.

The general grinned at him, apparently finding humor in the situation. "That's where you come in, _mate."_

Emma was surprised that Jones didn't appear to be frightened in the least, gazing out over the water and surveying the situation. After a few moments, he glanced back at the general. "So I just mosey on over to the other side, then?"

Nodding his head in the affirmative, Castrix motioned to one of his soldiers, who led Jones to the edge of the river. The rest of the party followed, Emma still in chains and limping pathetically behind.

She watched the water tumble over the jagged rocks that were poking through and tried to catch a glimpse of any danger. She could see a few of the soldiers laughing at his expense, which made her quite uneasy.

Jones didn't waste any time, taking off his jacket and throwing it toward a nearby centaur. "You don't mind, do you ole chap?"

The soldier's smiled dropped and he glared in response, using his lance to force him closer to the water's edge. Approaching the river carefully, Jones bit his lip and seemed to consider the best approach to enter.

Emma had never seen him without his jacket, the billowing sleeves on his black shirt fluttering in the wind. His vest was a deep color of red, which surprised her since she's only ever seen him in black, and clung to his form rather nicely.

She shook herself from the brief reverie and noticed him glance over his shoulder, flashing her a lazy smirk. "These are the moments when a bloke could really use his trusty vessel."

Emma rolled her eyes and gave him a look that she hoped he would understand meant: "be careful." He then gave her a genuine smile and Emma realized that he did.

_Of course he did._

Taking one last look into the river, Jones leaped in with a splash, the water coming all the way to the middle of his chest. He took a second to straighten himself and began wading across at an impressive pace. Emma couldn't help but notice how he really appeared to be in his element.

Jones struggled to maintain his balance at certain points, the strong current running over his form, but continued on without stopping. In a matter of minutes, he reached the other side, smiling proudly with his arms outstretched. "All clear lads."

The other centaurs shared looks with one another that seemed to indicate they were satisfied. The general motioned again and the centaurs stepped into the water one by one.

"Hold on," Jones yelled from the other side. "You must assist the lady."

Emma shook her head as to indicate for him not to cause trouble as she stepped off of the embankment. The water wasn't terribly cold, but couldn't be considered warm by any means, the chill easing the throbbing heat from her ankle.

"She will cross the same as the rest." Castrix was already half way to the other side, his voice booming over the rippling tide.

Emma heard Jones swear loudly, moving to make his way over to help her. She held her hand out to stop him, but the general beat her to it. "Stay where you are, stranger."

She was sure that Jones wasn't going to back down this time, making his way into the water again without hesitation. Emma saw Castrix draw his sword and knew this wasn't going to end well.

"Argh!" There was an excruciating shout and Emma swerved her head toward the source. The centaur who had threatened her known as Dorian, struggled to stay above the water, something having brought him to his knees.

One of his fellow soldiers made their way over to him, attempting to pry the trapped centaur free with a lance. The one holding Emma's chains pulled her over to join them, her boots slipping on the moss-covered rocks of the riverbed.

Castrix yelled over from the embankment, trying to understand what was happening as Emma watched them struggle. One of the soldiers was trying to lift something off of Dorian's leg and shouted back that the weight was far too great for them to overcome.

Jones attempted to get Emma's attention, but something else had caught her eye from up the river.

Whatever it was, must be at least thirty feet long and moved toward them at a rapid pace. Emma shook her head to be certain of what she was seeing, catching a glimpse of scales as her stomach clenched.

Her eyes met Jones' and he took off toward her at a sprint. "Emma, get out of there!"

One of the centaurs must have noticed the creature too and gave a terrified howl, taking off toward the shore. Emma watched his retreat in shock, turning back to the two remaining.

Dorian had a look of betrayal on his face, the other one of fear and hesitation. She could see that the creature was only about fifty yards away from them and gaining fast.

The other centaur pulled on Emma's chains and glanced back at Dorian. "I'm sorry, my friend."

He started to drag Emma away, but she wouldn't budge. As frightened as Emma felt, something held her in place and she glanced at Dorian before hearing her own words. "Get ready to run."

Having no idea whether it would work or what she was doing, Emma dove under the surface, surprised to see how clearly she could see ahead of her. Dorian's right front hoof was wedged between two rocks, one of them large enough to be considered a small boulder.

Concentrating as best she could, Emma reached her hands out over the one of the rocks that was pinning him to the riverbed.

She saw a flash before her eyes, an image of her and Regina standing over a shimmering stone, much smaller than the one now. It was then that she remembered what Jones had told her in the car about them rescuing Storybrooke from some kind of trigger, combining their powers to save everyone.

Emma was brought back to the present and she felt the familiar warmth spreading through her body. The stone shattered into pieces and she could hear the centaur's muffled roar from under the water.

Before Emma could react, a hand was yanking her to the surface, and she didn't need to confirm who it was. Spluttering frantically, she, Jones, and the two centaurs raced to safety.

Falling onto the riverbank, Emma caught a brief peek at the creature's green, scaly form gliding above the surface and back under again. Water bubbled vigorously for a few seconds were Dorian had been trapped, before the monster slithered away with an echoing bellow.

Panting heavily, Jones crawled over to Emma and cupped her cheek with his hand. His long, black shirt clung to his drenched form, beads of water glistening over the exposed hair on his chest. For a moment, she forgot their surroundings and circumstance, staring deep into his blue eyes.

He broke into a large grin and shook his head, letting out a bark of delight. "What a bloody fool you acted like out there, Swan." He suddenly embraced Emma tightly, taking her by surprise and shooting heat throughout her body. "A bloody brilliant, beautiful fool, indeed."

She couldn't really disagree with the statement, having taken such a risk to save someone who probably wouldn't have done the same for her. Still, she felt a wave of relief flood over her for surviving such an ordeal and returned his hug enthusiastically.

A brawny hand covered in fur reached down, grasping her arm and pulling Emma to her feet. Jones stood up, remaining close by, as they both looked up at the general.

"Why did you risk your life to save him after how he treated you before?" Castrix asked her as he handed Jones back his jacket, his voice calm. Emma recognized the tone of awe that was hidden there.

She shrugged her shoulders, water dripping over her eyelashes. "Everyone deserves a second chance," Emma sighed, not entirely knowing how to answer his question. "I guess I understand what it's like to be left behind."

The general narrowed his eyes, pursing his lips as he considered her for a moment. She noticed Jones' look of sadness at her words as the other soldiers tended to Dorian's leg nearby.

Castrix quirked an eyebrow. "You are quite an unusual human, Lady Emma."

Emma guessed that they must have met their share of despicable humans before her. Still, she saw no reason not to treat them as any other creature, despite them taking her captive without just cause.

Squeezing the water out of her hair, the chains still bound around her wrists clinking together, she murmured toward the ground. "Just 'Emma' is fine."

She heard a soft rumbling from the centaur, realizing that he was chuckling at her words. "Let us continue on then, Emma. King Andrew's castle is just over that ridge."

* * *

A small part of Emma had hoped that they were going to let them go after their little run in with what Jones had explained was a sea serpent. They were native to many lands, but according to him, the group was lucky that the monster wasn't as large as many that he's seen before.

"Lucky" wouldn't have been her choice of words.

Still, the centaurs seemed to ease up on her and Jones both after that. Dorian, who was assisted by his fellow soldiers the remainder of their journey, had even given Emma a small smile as they passed by.

Upon reaching their destination, Emma noticed the castle itself was quite small to what she had expected, situated within a group of high, jagged rocks looking over a deep valley.

A moat surrounded the fortress, fed by the river they had followed that was running nearby. As she and the rest of their group approached, Emma noticed Castrix raise his sword and a large drawbridge was lowered so that they could cross.

Emma was surprised to see a small unit of what appeared to be goats galloping upright toward them, carrying spears and clubs. The largest one approached Castrix and bowed his head in salute, the general addressing him as "Sergeant."

This creature, like the centaurs, was half man and half animal. His hindquarters were covered in ringlets of blonde fur, his long tail twitching back and forth. Two small horns peaked out over a tuft of golden hair and his drooping, brown eyes made him look as if he was sad, which contrasted to his cheery gallop.

"General. I see we have prisoners." His voice squeaked slightly and Emma fought the urge to giggle, being reminded of the girl that had approached her and Josef in the restaurant.

That seemed so long ago to her now.

The goat man continued, glancing sideways at Emma as if he had noticed her mirth. "Shall I prepare the execution platform, then?"

A small gasp escaped her lips and Emma felt Jones tense next to her.

"No, that will not be necessary Sergeant Fineus," Castrix replied as he waved his hand and the rest of the centaurs moved forward into the castle. "I will see that they get to where they belong. Please alert the King that we've arrived."

The Sergeant shook his head, staying behind as the other three goat man soldiers followed the centaurs. "I'm afraid he isn't here, sir. King Andrew went on another expedition today, this time to the North."

Castrix frowned, rubbing his large fingers through the thick, curly beard on his face before turning to Emma and Jones. "Well, it seems you will have to wait in order to seek audience with his Majesty."

Jones finally broke his silence. "Oi mate, hold on. You dragged the princess and me here, damn near getting us killed along the way. Can you not at least tell us why we are being held prisoner?"

Emma had narrowed her eyes when Jones had called her "princess," as she didn't much care to be referred as such, but decided not to interrupt his request since she wanted to hear his response.

"Hold your tongue, peasant!" The soldier known as Fineus had drawn his spear, thrusting it near Jones' throat.

Castrix waved the Sergeant off and Fineus left, leaving the three of them alone. "I must apologize for him, as fauns tend to have very short tempers." He smiled at them easily, Emma feeling somewhat comfortable in his presence for the first time since they've arrived.

The general began moving past the outer walls as she and Jones followed, still in chains. Emma's ankle had swollen so large that she could feel it strain against her boot as she limped behind.

A few of the residents were staring at them anxiously as they passed. She noticed many of them were training with weapons, none of them appearing to be civilians, and there wasn't a human to be seen.

Castrix sighed and began speaking as the three of them made their way through the courtyard. "We cannot take any chances with strangers to our land, especially humans. Narnia was destroyed over two hundred years ago, most of its inhabitants and landmarks along with it."

Emma heard Jones' short intake of breath and realized this information was as new to him as it was to her. They entered through the main gate of the castle, its doors creaking loudly as two fauns bowed to the general, allowing them to pass.

Castrix continued, speaking over his shoulder as he grabbed a nearby torch on the wall, his other hand still holding on to their chains. "This is all that remains of what was once a prosperous and peaceful kingdom. Today was the first we've seen any sign of the sun for months."

Emma and Jones exchanged glances, but allowed the centaur leader to continue as they walked down a long, narrow corridor. "That is why we were certain someone had passed through the pool. The land makes itself appear beautiful to travelers in the Wood, luring them into this barren land of darkness."

He leaned over, placing his torch into the sconce on the wall and unlocked their chains, Emma now feeling the cool air on her reddened wrists. The smell of mold filled her nostrils and through the dimly-lit area, she could see Jones reattaching his gloved hand and shaking his head at the general.

"You say you must take precaution with strangers, 'especially humans.' What did you mean by that, may I ask?" Jones was looking directly at the general, but Emma took a moment to notice a dark prison cell behind Castrix and assumed that's where they were headed next.

"Humans no longer exist in our world. Once they were the saviors of this realm, bringing peace for some time. But after a few centuries, they became greedy and fought over the various kingdoms. This was why Narnia was destroyed and left with nothing but the evil that had overcome it."

The general's face grew dark at his words, his expression becoming as angry and vengeful as before when she and Jones had arrived. He turned and unlocked the prison cell door with a large, brass key, the hinges groaning as the door swung open.

"I must insist that you stay here until our king returns. We will bring your rations soon, as I'm sure it has been some time since you've eaten."

Almost on cue, Emma's stomach growled and she was reminded that it had been six or seven hours since breakfast. She and Jones trudged into the cell, puddles of leaking water splashing under her boots. The heavy door shut with a loud clang and Castrix turned the key again, locking them inside.

He gave them one last look, of which Emma noticed bordered on sympathy and turned to go.

"Wait," Emma moved to the cell door, her face peeking through the gaps between the bars. "If all that's left in this land is dark and wicked, then why are you still here?"

The general's face softened then, but Emma could see his hesitation to answer. "We were entrusted with the survival of Narnia; to find whatever it is that can lead us out of this desolation."

Without another word, Castrix swung around and made his way down the corridor, his hooves clanking along the stone floor. Emma let out a deep breath she had been holding.

_So much for making allies and out of here._

With all of the information provided, her mind was reeling. The Narnia she had read about as a child was nothing like what Castrix had described. She and Jones were being held prisoner, simply because they were human and the land's inhabitants were desperate to escape the evil surrounding them.

The small bit of hope that had sparked inside her after they escaped the serpent was gone, replaced with a feeling in her heart as empty as her grumbling stomach.

As if reading her mind, Jones came to stand behind her, his body pressing into her back and his breath hot on her bare neck. Emma closed her eyes and let her senses take him in. "All will be righted, Darling."

She did her best to remain calm, allowing herself to assess their situation for the first time since falling through the pool.

The pool that Jones had taken them through in the first place.

Her eyes snapped open and she shrugged him off, making her way to the other side of the cell. A small, wooden pail lay in the corner and she tried not to think what it was put there for.

Jones sensed her distance and moved toward her slowly. "Emma?"

She leaned against the cold, hard stone wall, her hand pressed against its clammy surface. Small beams of what light was left outside crept through the one window at the far end. Emma ignored the pain in her ankle and swung around at Jones, suddenly enraged.

"This is _your _fault! We never would have ended up in here if you hadn't dragged me into that damn pool." Emma stumbled slightly, no longer able to stand and she lowered herself onto the only bed in the cell, the straw rustling from under her.

Jones' eyes were downcast, but he didn't respond, seeming to understand her frustration. She took a deep sigh, already feeling guilty at her outburst, and looked down at her ankle.

"How is the ankle? Shall I have them fetch a physician?"

She waved her hand to indicate she was fine, pulling the boot over the injury carefully. Emma lifted her leg onto the bed, in hopes that elevation would ease the swelling.

Glancing around the small cell, Emma shook her head and sighed. "Looks like we'll be staying in this place for at least one night, though I doubt we'll be getting much sleep considering the low standards."

"Well, if you snore as loud as you yell, luv, I'd have to agree with that sentiment." Pursing her lips, Emma focused on keeping her composure, staring ahead at flickering flame of the torch on the wall so not to see the smirk she was sure was plastered on his face.

"Maybe if I try to use my magic, we could find a way to escape." Emma could hardly believe the words had come out of her mouth, but realized she was at least starting to accept the power she possessed.

Jones slid against the wall beside the bed, his legs outstretched in front of him. "Yes, perhaps we could blast our way out of here, but I doubt we would get very far with that ankle of yours."

He turned toward her, their bodies parallel, and moved to touch the injury. "Why don't you allow me to call for someone-"

"I'm fine, Jones." She shifted her leg away from his reach and heard his soft sigh from below.

"After everything we've been through together, Emma, one would think you could call me by my given name." There was a brief pause, as Emma hadn't expected him to say that.

"Or did you forget _that_ as well?" His voice sounded almost resentful, but his expression looked forlorn.

Killian. Of course she hadn't forgotten it, despite the fact that the chaos over the past few days would have certainly given her cause to. "No," she replied softly, "I haven't forgotten."

She had never really given any thought to what calling him by his first name would mean to either of them, and unsure of how to respond, Emma remained silent.

He shifted his head slightly in Emma's direction as if to urge her to continue, and Jones waited for her. He seemed to always be waiting for her.

He must have picked up on her uneasiness. "Well, I reckon 'Jones' is better than 'Hook.' Makes me sound like less of a villain." He pushed himself up onto his knees and leaned in closer, his lips grazing against her ear as he purred. "Or perhaps 'Captain,' if you would prefer."

Despite their current predicament, Emma couldn't help the flush that crept onto her face, their proximity fogging her mind of any clear thought. He heard his chuckle at her reaction and Emma put a small bit of distance between them, finding her voice again.

"Regina called you 'Hook' back in Storybrooke," Emma recalled. "What name did I use before, you know, before Henry and I lost our memories?" She winced at Henry's name, bringing her back to reality for a brief moment.

Jones face grew serious again, pulling his lower lip into his mouth and breaking eye contact with her. "It was always 'Hook,' as you didn't have much time to see me as anything else, I suppose."

This was the first time he has spoken openly about their "relationship," though Emma would be hesitant to use that term. She turned to watch his profile, probing him to say more. "What do you mean?"

His pause made Emma believe Jones wasn't going to answer, but he took a deep breath and responded in a quiet voice. "As you know, we didn't exactly converge on the best of terms. You and I had wronged each other, for certain, but I had done so many things I wasn't proud of before you came into my life."

Emma heard the distant sounds of wailing from somewhere else in the prison tower, the melancholy adding to the somber feel of their conversation, as she allowed him to continue.

"Before we went to Neverland, you had offered me a chance to join you and your family, to be part of something greater than myself. Despite everything that had happened, you put your faith in me to assist you and ultimately, do the right thing."

It was at that moment, Emma knew her suspicions had been correct; there had been much more between them than friendship.

She held her breath, realizing how difficult this must be for him to admit and he pulled his head toward her, their eyes meeting. "No one has done that for me in a very long time, Emma."

Jones' eyes flickered to her lips, as he slightly parted his own and she was sure he was going to kiss her.

"Ahem."

She and Jones jerked their head over to the cell door, where Dorian was holding a tray with what Emma supposed was their promised rations. The centaur had an odd expression on his face that she couldn't place and Emma saw that the injury to his leg had been wrapped.

"Excuse the interruption, but I've brought you something to eat." Jones let out a huff, getting to his feet and made his way over to meet him. Dorian slid the tray through the slot and she noticed him moving his torch to shine in her direction. "How are you feeling?"

Before she could respond, Jones chimed in. "Now you're suddenly concerned about her well being, eh?" Emma tilted her head at Jones in annoyance, but it went unnoticed as his back still faced her. "She would be much better if we had something to dress the ankle with."

Dorian gave Emma a small smile and pulled out a wooden box that fit in his palm. He handed it to Jones from between the bars, still looking at her directly. "This will heal your wound, milady."

Emma returned his smile with gratitude as Jones brought the tray over to her, mumbling under his breath. She looked up into his face and raised her eyebrows to indicate he should be quiet.

"I'll bid you good evening, then." Dorian bowed slightly and went to leave before Jones' eyes went wide and he turned stop the soldier.

"Hold up there, mate."

Emma opened her mouth to tell him to leave it alone, but Jones had already made his way over to Dorian. Pulling out an item from his boot that Emma couldn't see in the dim light, he lowered his voice. "Tell your general that I have something he may desperately need."

Dorian glanced down at the item in his hand, before Jones shoved it back into his pocket. "I'll let Castrix know." Nodding quickly to Jones, Dorian turned and headed back down the corridor.

She frowned in confusion as Jones made his way over to her and opened the box containing her medical supplies. He felt Emma's stare and looked up to her, his trademark smirk returning. "Don't fret, luv. I believe I've just found our way out of here."

* * *

**A/N: Always a plan, that one haha. What did you guys think of Emma's little stunt in the river? **

**Next chapter: Hook strikes a deal, Emma sees her hidden desires come to life, and our favorite pair get one step closer to home.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hey guys; sorry for the delay. Only one more month until our show returns. I doubt Emma's journey will play out exactly like this, but that's the beauty of fan fiction, right; to make it your own? Thank you for still reading, following, and reviewing AND to JJ for editing. I appreciate you all!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own ****_Once Upon a Time_**** or its characters or anything from C.S. Lewis' ****_The Chronicles of Narnia._**

**This Chapter's Rating: T, borderline M for stuff :)**

* * *

Jones wouldn't tell Emma what he had planned to get them out of the castle, which of course infuriated her. She eventually swallowed her pride, and decided to trust him as he had asked her.

_Which was starting to become a habit of hers lately._

It hadn't taken long for two faun guards to show up and take them to Castrix. Emma was expecting the rest of the castle to be ornate and grand.

She was wrong.

Much like the prison cell they were being held in, the rest of the castle was dark and dank. The stone walls and wooden floors did little to block the draft from outside. There weren't many windows to let any light in, and the few that did exist were draped with black, moth-eaten curtains.

The ceiling in the great hall was tall, which made the room look much larger than it actually was. Brass chandeliers hung not far above their heads, as wax dripped over their rusty edges. The only other source of heat or light was a large fireplace in the far corner.

She and Jones hadn't been placed in chains this time, but the faun soldier that followed had kept his spear close to their backs.

Castrix was laying on what looked like a bear skin rug at the end of the hall, flanked by three of his centaur soldiers. Emma noticed one of them was Dorian, who welcomed her with a friendly bow.

The general finished chewing his food and stood up, wiping his mouth with a large cloth. He frowned at them both and signaled for two fauns to bring them chalices of what turned out to be wine.

"Drink." His tone was curt, void of any emotion.

Jones glanced over at her and took a drink first as if to see whether it was safe. After a moment, he nodded and Emma followed. She found it to be rather good: sweet, with an overtone of earth and spice.

"I take it your rations were satisfactory?" Castrix was wearing a tight smile, which Emma thought didn't suit him.

Jones took another swig of the wine and placed his goblet down on a table nearby. "No offense mate, but we didn't come here to discuss the facilities. We want to make a deal."

Emma narrowed her eyes, but stared ahead without looking at Jones, as she was still upset that he hadn't filled her in on what he was up to.

Castrix waved away all of his guards, except Dorian and another centaur so they could be alone. "Yes, Dorian mentioned that you may have something that would be valuable to us." Stopping a short distance in front of them, the general held out his hand expectantly. "So, let us have a look, Captain."

Jones seemed surprised to have the general address him as "Captain," but recovered quickly, and pulled the item out of his boot. Emma craned her neck to see that it was cradled in a white cloth and appeared no bigger than Jones' palm.

It was an antique, rather dingy device with a needle and letters written in four directions that closely resembled a compass.

_Seriously? That was his plan? He wanted to trade a beat up, old compass for their lives?_

She waited for the eruption of laughter, but it never came. Instead, Castrix's eyes widened and his voice was wrapped in awe as he took it carefully in his hand. "Is that the Magic Compass?"

Jones merely nodded. "Yes, indeed. It will point you in the direction of the thing that you most desperately seek."

Emma nearly spit out the wine she'd been drinking. Jones had something that might be able to get them home and he was trading it away?

She made her way over to him and whispered. "What the hell are you doing? Aren't we going to need whatever that thing is to get out of here?"

Jones gave her a small smile, then held his hand back out expectantly. "Come now, gentleman, let us talk business."

Frowning, Castrix returned the compass to Jones and took a step back. "Your freedom for the compass?" His large, black tail swished behind him and Emma was reminded of a different side she had seen of the centaur, one more dark and unwavering.

"Well, not exactly, mate." Jones placed the compass into his pocket and Emma saw the centaurs twitch in irritation.

"You see, the lady and I require assistance leaving this world and getting back to our homeland. In order to do this, we will need a portal or a way to the woods which held the magical pools."

Dorian and Castrix exchanged looks of confusion, the general staring back at Jones as if he hadn't heard him correctly. "You mean to say that you didn't come here willingly?"

Emma could no longer contain herself and stepped forward. "No we didn't. General, we need your help. My son is in danger, and the longer we are trapped here-"

Castrix raised his hand gently to cut her off. "We mean you no harm, but you cannot merely come and go as you please into Narnia. Letting you leave is simply not my decision to make."

Jones nodded his head, seeming to understand where he was going with this. "Ah yes; your king. So, we will need his permission to leave then, I take it?"

Nodding solemnly, the general met Jones' gaze once again. "I'm afraid so."

Jones sighed deeply and shuffled over to observe a painting on the wall, scratching his chin as if deep in thought. Emma recognized the landscape on the painting as the same one they'd seen in the magic pool.

"That is quite a lovely view, no?" He pointed to the painting and the general quirked an eyebrow in response.

Emma was surprised that Jones had gone so far off track. Was he trying to confuse the general or trick him with flattery? Either way, she doubted his talent for smooth talking would help them this time.

Castrix nodded his head slightly and finished his wine, placing it on the table. "At one time, yes. That was the Western Wild, before evil overcame its terrain. It was once lush, beautiful, and far less dangerous."

"I see…" Jones made his way around the table and back to the group. "And what of the rings?"

Emma's eyes snapped up to Jones' in order to identify any foul play, but she saw that he appeared quite serious, awaiting the centaur's response.

Castrix seemed to have been taken by surprise again, although this time he tried to hide it. "Rings?" His voice was low, but a bit uneven.

"You are not the only one familiar with legends, General. I have heard of four rings used for portal transportation, and they are somewhere in this kingdom; am I right?"

Emma suddenly remembered this part of the story, having read it as a child. She was constantly immersing herself in fairytales in order to escape the cruelty of her life. If her memory served her, there were two gold rings and two green ones that allowed passage into and out of Narnia.

Castrix looked at Jones carefully, as if to detect any dishonesty or bluff. "You are correct, indeed. The four rings you speak of do exist in this realm."

The small bit of relief Emma felt suddenly faded once she saw the solemn look on the general's face. "However, the four golden rings were lost long ago, scattered at the corners of this kingdom."

Jones wasn't giving up as easily. "But they _do_ exist." He glanced back at Emma before returning his gaze to the centaurs. "And each one can take us to another land of our choice?

Dorian and the other centaur guffawed, while Castrix smiled. "Assuming you could find them at all, Captain."

Those were Emma's thoughts exactly. She assumed that he and his soldiers had probably tried to find these rings themselves, considering the power they possessed.

It was Jones' turn to smile. "Well, therein lies the drawback, mate." He pulled the compass back out of his pocket, swinging it back and forth. "In order to find the rings, we will need to take _this_ with us."

Emma nearly snorted in disbelief, looking up to gage a reaction. Surprisingly, the centaurs weren't laughing, but looking at one another silently. It was Castrix who spoke. "Give us a minute, please."

They began speaking amongst themselves in small voices, occasionally glancing over at her and Jones. Emma couldn't believe they were even considering the deal.

Emma shot Jones a look that meant "This had better work or it's your ass." He seemed to understand, a grin growing on his face as he shot her a quick wink which made her heart skip.

_Damn him._

After only a few moments, the three centaurs turned around, Castrix addressing her and Jones. "We have no real need for the rings, so we will allow you to take two of them in order to leave, assuming the king gives you his permission when you return. However…"

Emma let out a deep sigh. _She figured there had to be a catch._

The general continued with a frown. "The compass could be what we need in order to lead us out of this permanent darkness. How do we know you will return here to fulfill your end the bargain?"

This guy didn't trust _anyone_, and now it seemed that Emma's own insecurities were coming back to bite her. Determined, she pushed pass Jones and kept her voice as steady as possible.

"You'll just have to believe that we're honest people and will bring back the compass, General."

As expected, Castrix pursed his lips and placed his bulging arms across his chest with a huff. "Emma, just because you believe in something, doesn't make it true."

His words froze her in place, making it very hard to disagree with them, even now. How could she ask this guy to take a leap of faith, when Emma herself didn't trust anyone?

That was… until yesterday; when she drove seven hours to an unmarked destination and swallowed a vial of mystery liquid because a pirate told her to.

Meeting his eyes directly, Emma reached out her hand for him to shake. "Then let me prove you wrong."

Despite feeling like a hypocrite at the moment, Emma held her breath and waited for him to reject her offer. Suddenly, Dorian whispered something to Castrix, before he smiled at Emma warmly.

Nodding his head, the general then turned his attention back to her, his face serious. "You took a chance to save another's life," he said slowly, reaching out to accept her hand. "Now we will take a chance on you, in order to save us all."

Emma's breath came out in a large whoosh, as Jones came wrap his arm around the small of her back, making the drafty room suddenly feel like a sauna.

She tried to ignore the glare that Jones was shooting at Dorian as Castrix turned his attention to them.

"You'll need a map of the surrounding area, and I suggest you start by heading west." He motioned to one of the guards, who galloped over to join them. "Our soldiers will ensure you have the proper supplies and weaponry."

Emma began mentally preparing herself for the task at hand as Jones finished the last of his wine with a large gulp.

"Much obliged, mate. Say, you got anything with a hook?"

* * *

Despite Castrix urging them to wait until morning, Emma had insisted that she and Jones head out right away. With two hours still left of daylight, Emma was sure they could get at least 20 miles if they didn't stop to rest.

The centaurs gave them a map and had shared some areas of danger with Jones. More than likely, they had said, a ring would be somewhere near the Western Wild, as it was a major landmark in the kingdom.

Emma glanced up and noticed the sun had nearly reached the horizon, and although it had been mostly covered in clouds all day, she missed the small bit of light it had provided them.

Jones turned out to be quite the horseman, considering he only had one hand. His movements seemed to be in sync with the animal, apparently having experience in the area. She had never ridden a horse before, but Emma caught on quickly with Jones' help.

"It's a good thing one of us knows how to ride," Emma said to her side, as she and Jones' traveled at a steady gallop. She allowed herself to admire the way his legs wrapped tightly around the horse for control and her mind wandered a bit.

He turned and caught her staring at him, which earned Emma a lazy grin. "As I said before, luv, a man of many talents."

She pretended not to be amused, shaking her head and taking a long drink from her canteen. Over an hour of riding and she had already started to feel sore. Cutting the gym out of her routine the past two months had obviously taken its toll.

It was odd to think that it had been almost three days with barely a thought of New York; of their old life. She supposed that there was little chance of them ever being able to return to that lifestyle again. Her job, her friends (though she only had a few besides Josef,) and everything else that made up her and Henry's life, were now a not so distant memory.

"Care to share what's on your mind, Darling?" She was startled by his voice and nearly fell off her horse.

She thought it best to stay focused on the task at hand. Besides, talking about New York would only make her think of Henry, and she couldn't afford to lose her grip again.

She glanced sideways at Jones and tried to act casual. "So how far do you think we've traveled?"

He pulled the reins so the horse would come to a stop, and took out the compass. "Can you pull out the map?" Jones moved his horse closer to hers so that they could coordinate.

Grabbing the map out of her knapsack, Emma looked ahead to see that they were coming up a large field of what looked like wheatgrass. Unrolling the map, she felt Jones look over her shoulder, his face inches from hers. She shivered, blowing into her hands to fake being cold.

"We need to continue heading west, as I believe we are about to enter the battleground ruins. Perhaps we should stop to set up camp soon, as nightfall is rapidly approaching."

Emma quirked her eyebrow and turned her head to look at him. "How much did Castrix tell you about the land?"

Jones smiled and held up the compass. "Thanks to the information provided by our compassionate general, I have no doubt we will find at least two of the four rings. Although, sadly this compass hasn't done anything exceptional so far," he added under his breath.

That reminded her of something and she narrowed her eyes. "Where _did_ you get that compass anyway, and more importantly, why didn't you tell me about it?"

As much as Emma wanted to keep the peace, she couldn't ignore the fact that he kept the magical compass from her until today. He was ready to trade it away and hadn't even consulted her first.

Jones put the compass back into his pocket and nudged the horse to go forward. "I was actually waiting for you to tell me," he hesitated before continuing. "I failed to share the details on how we came into possession of it, in hopes that the memory would come back to you."

"Wait, 'how _we_ came into possession of it'? What do you mean 'we?'"

She could tell that he hadn't been looking forward to answering this question, his eyes looking ahead.

"You do recall my mention of the beanstalk before?"

She did remember him saying something about fighting off a giant for a magical trinket to get them to Storybrooke. Emma nodded so that he would continue.

"That was our first journey together, and due to the circumstances of our meeting, you had quite a difficult time letting me in."

Kicking the horse to move faster, he seemed to look for any signs of danger and continued. "Of course, I could tell from the beginning that it wasn't the only reason you were afraid to trust me."

Emma wasn't sure how to respond to that. It was getting harder and harder to accept that this man knew her so well when she knew so little about him.

"We were able to obtain the compass after you trapped the giant git." He shook his head, a sad smile on his face. "I recall being so impressed with your cunning and nerve from the moment we met."

Between his expressions and tone of voice, Emma could tell that finding the compass had meant more to him than obtaining its magic.

Her interest piqued, as the horses stepped into the golden wheat field. "So what happened then? I thought you ended up going to Storybrooke with Cora after that?"

It was remarkable how much detail she could still retain after everything. Between his and Regina's accounts, and now what she learned about Narnia, Emma needed a notebook to keep it all straight. Her ankle started to ache for the first time since they left, but Emma pushed past it.

"Well, things took a bit of a turn after you obtained the compass," Jones turned his head toward her, the words sounding rough against the gentle breeze.

"A turn?" When he had craned his head, Emma was certain she had caught a whiff of his scent, only this time it was nearly overwhelming, striking a bolt of desire throughout her.

He pursed his lips and his voice was low. "You said you couldn't trust your instincts, and left me chained in the giant's lair."

She was suddenly aware of his change in demeanor. Jones was no longer looking at her, his brow furrowed and his hand grasped the reins tightly.

"You mean that I left you there to die?" Her body was really starting to recognize the cold beneath the many layers she had on, the horses' breath coming out in large puffs of steam.

"No, you struck an accord with the giant known as Anton to release me once you got away. I imagine that you believed you and I were getting too close; that you were afraid of what you may have felt."

Anton. He was the big guy who was injured in Storybrooke. He hadn't seemed like a ferocious giant to her, and Emma figured that she must have had a good reason to leave Jones behind on that beanstalk.

The faint humming of the insects and woodland creatures seemed to amplify over the silent night, the horses' hooves crunching the blades of wheat beneath them.

Suddenly, Emma felt very anxious. There was still so much she didn't know about Jones; so much he hadn't said about his past.

"You know, for someone who talks so much about trust, you sure don't reveal a lot about yourself."

She happened to catch the dark look creep on his face, despite the lack of light. "What do you want to know?"

The horses panted under them, seeming to tire with every step. Unless she was wrong, they hadn't quite travelled two hours, so it didn't seem to make sense for them to be this exhausted already.

"You once said that our relationship was 'complicated,' but you didn't say how or why it-"

Suddenly, Jones turned to her sharply, his words coming out in a near shout. "Do you think it's easy giving your heart to a woman, only to have her ripped away from you without warning? Once was hard enough…"

His tone had struck her so deeply that it was suddenly difficult to breathe. Tears stung her eyes, and Emma felt a deep, resounding fear spill over her. The horse she was riding stumbled, pulling against her grasp as if fighting the will to move forward.

Emma surrendered the reins, her ankle throbbing, and she turned to see that Jones had stopped too. He was facing her, his chest heaving. They seemed to be at a deadlock, their eyes gazing into one another with a jumble of emotion.

In that moment, the two of them seemed to understand that something was amiss. His eyes widened and he looked around them, alert, but his frown remained. "Come on," he yelled out to her.

Digging his boots into the horse, Jones managed to get the poor animal to move toward the edge of the forest. Emma tried her best to focus, and followed him out of the field, now realizing his plan.

As her horse made its way out of the last blades of grass, Emma felt her head start to clear, and her awareness return. The sounds of the creatures around them were now subtle, the deep cold was lifting from her extremities, and Jones' scent only made her somewhat dizzy, rather than completely.

The feelings of fear and uncertainty that had plagued her were now fading away, like the sun over the hills. Something in that field had nearly turned them against one another.

Jones must have felt the same, because he moved close enough to place his hand on hers.

"Bloody hell, lass. Are you alright?" His eyes searched hers, a look of concern replacing the one of anger and misery that was there only moments ago.

She nodded her head and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "What _was_ that? One minute we were talking, the next-"

"The Plains of Perception. Apparently, the grass heightens one's present senses and emotions to the extremity. The general had mentioned it, but I was too distracted to take notice." He dismounted, shaking his head in frustration, and looked up at her again. "Twas my failure, Emma."

She put her hands on Jones' shoulders, as he helped her get down from the saddle. "I think we should make camp for the night," he murmured, now looking around. "The tree line should provide some cover from any further evil that may await us."

His hand remained on her waist a moment longer, the last remnants of her heightened senses ebbing away as he finally broke eye contact, turning to make his way into the forest.

"I'll just go and collect some firewood, then."

* * *

Emma woke to the crackling of fire, its smoke filling her nostrils with hints of pine and mold. She glanced over to Jones' sleeping bag to see it was empty, and guessed he was probably getting more firewood.

Or avoiding her.

After what he'd said while they were on the PMS Plains, or whatever they're called, Emma couldn't help but wonder how much of it had been true. She knew the grass pushed a person's current senses to the brink, but that could only mean one thing: Jones had already been angry _before_ they entered the field.

Breathing a deep sigh, she removed her jacket from under the sleeping bag, her sweater being plenty to keep her warm. The centaurs had made sure they were properly supplied, that's for sure.

Even so, if that field was just the beginning of obstacles they were to face, Emma concluded that she and Jones needed to deal with whatever this was between them, and fast. It was clear that she had hurt him, but unless Emma understood what they had gone through, it could only spell more trouble.

Emma decided to find Jones, looking over to see her boots warming by the fire. She sat up and reached over to grab them, before hearing the snap of a twig behind her.

"Hey," she said in a low voice, Jones walking slowly toward the campsite. It was still very dark, as Emma supposed it was still very early morning. "Look Jones, I think we need to talk about-"

"Shhhh." He had knelt down in front of her, his face covered in shadows and dim firelight as he placed a finger to her lips. "It is I who should apologize, Darling."

Recognizing the spark from just a press of his finger, Emma shook her head. "Neither one of us saw that grass coming; it wasn't your fault."

He merely nodded, settling on the ground next to her and maintaining eye contact as she continued.

"But I also know that you're going through something I can't totally understand, so you need to tell me everything if we're going to get out of this alive."

Without a word, he moved his hand to cup her face. His tongue darted out quickly to wet his lips and she noticed, swallowing hard. His gaze moved to her throat, as she reminded herself to stay focused.

"I know that we've hurt each other, and that it's taking me longer to get my memory back than you'd probably like," Emma murmured, her breathing picking up.

Despite the damp ground, she could feel the heat generating off of Jones' body and wondered if it really was coming from him, or if they had wandered into that damn grass again. A low hum escaped his lips as he slowly drew patterns on her arm with his fingertips.

"And…uh, well…after everything that's happened, there's fear and frustration on both sides, and we-"

"I'd be happy to assist you with any frustration you might have, luv." His usual playfulness was gone, replaced with an unbridled look of lust that both scared and exhilarated her.

For a moment, Emma was fixated on the curve of his bottom lip, moist from where he had licked them before, and the way it met perfectly with a small patch of stubble.

He whispered in her ear, his voice husky. "Just say the word."

Closing her eyes, Emma felt Jones' words reverberate to her bones, goose bumps emerging all over her skin. She didn't hide the deep intake of breath, filling her nose with a mixture of leather and sweat.

Unwilling to push aside the urgency anymore, Emma open her eyes to meet with his, her voice low.

"Yes."

Jones didn't hesitate for a second, placing his good hand behind her neck and pulling her into him.

She was on _fire_.

The roughness of his beard scraped against her jaw at first, his mouth hot and wet against hers. She let his lips massage into her own, her hand pressed against his warm chest, which was dusted with dark curls. Emma felt his tongue edge its way in and she met it willingly with her own.

If she had thought the haziness of the fields had been too much, Emma hadn't realized what she was getting herself into. She still wasn't certain of how much they had done before, but it was no secret that her body needed this- _now_.

Emma picked up the pace, using both of her hands to pull on his jacket for leverage, the thrashing of her heartbeat against her chest urging her on. His hand moved from her face and down her back to settle above her hips, as she savored the spicy taste of his mouth.

She was the first to pull apart to breathe, wrapping her hand into his dark hair roughly. Jones moved his way down, suckling on the exposed flesh on her neck and pulling her sweater down over the one shoulder. Without thinking, Emma let out a moan that echoed over the quiet forest and felt the fire ignite down into her core.

He chuckled darkly at her enthusiasm and his hand pulled her left leg to rest over his lap, fitting them more closely together. Emma thought she was going to explode, the relentless heat between them fogging any rational thought.

The arm of his gloved hand wrapped around her back, the other sneaking its warm fingers under the fabric of her shirt. He cupped her breast over the bra, making her ache for him. "Jones," she said; her voice ragged and hoarse.

She pulled Jones' mouth back to hers roughly, her breath coming out in short bursts. Emma let any feeling of self doubt leave her as she lowered herself down onto him, grinding her pelvis into his.

"Mmmmmm," he groaned against her mouth, nipping at her lower lip. "Swan…"

Emma's vision began to blur, the overwhelming heat nearly unbearable, yet drawing her further and further into a lusty abyss. There was no turning back, even if she wanted to. He had consumed her entirely, as the last remnants of thought gave way to the humming of her body.

"Swan."

Her arms were shaking, and she could feel the heat slowly fading from her. Jones' lips were still ravishing her neck, but it felt like someone was jerking her shoulders violently.

"Swan! Swan…look lively, luv!"

Suddenly she was drenched, the coldness of the water biting into her still smoldering skin. Emma opened her eyes and had to squint immediately, the brightness of the morning sunlight beaming through the forest trees.

Coming back to her senses, Emma's vision cleared and her sight was met with the image of a fully-clothed Jones standing over her with a torch. "What are you _doing_?" She spluttered out, utterly confused.

He didn't answer her right away, swerving his head from side to side in haste, as if he was looking for something. "Where the bloody hell did it go? Blasted thing…"

Emma stumbled to her feet, looking down at her drenched clothes. "Jones, why in the world did you-"

"I think it's gone, but we need to get out of here." He started packing their things, his gear already packed. Emma had assumed she was dreaming, but it didn't explain his behavior.

"Jones…?"

He swung around from rolling up her sleeping bag and frowned. "It was an Incubus, Darling. And they don't much care for being interrupted, so I suggest we get a move on."

Incubus? Like the band? Emma was so baffled she didn't even reply, still slightly flustered from the dream she just had.

_Don't think about that right now_.

Noticing the compass falling out of his satchel, Emma grabbed it and flung it around her neck, water still dripping from her hair.

Pulling on her boots, she narrowed her eyes at him as he lifted her things over the horse's saddle. "Did you have to throw water on me? Now my clothes are all wet."

He merely shook his head, a humorless laugh coming off his lips as his breath showed in the chilly morning air. "You were fortunate that I was able to wake you at all, lass."

She opened her mouth to make a retort, but Jones' eyes grew wide. He was walking over to her slowly, his sightline heading right for her chest. Emma frowned in annoyance, but realized immediately that he was looking at the compass she had thrown around her neck.

The front face was glowing ever-so-slightly, and felt warm against her skin. The needle spun wildly for a moment, before stopping on a point between North and West.

Jones looked up from the compass, his eyes meeting Emma's. "It's working, Darling," he said as a wide smile spread over his face. "Let us go and get one of those rings, shall we?"

* * *

**A/N: That compass has come in pretty handy, right? Leave a quick review, please. I have to know what you all thought about this one :)**

**Next chapter: Emma and Hook do some climbing- again, Emma has to make a choice regarding Henry, and Hook finally gets a chance to ask for forgiveness.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Wow, it seems like yesterday that I was reading my first review and now we've reached over 50, keep them coming please. Thank you all for the feedback and for sticking with Emma on this journey. I also want to acknowledge those who have followed and favorited and to JJ, who keeps me in check.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own ****_Once Upon a Time_**** or any of its characters, nor anything from C.S. Lewis' ****_The Chronicles of Narnia._**

* * *

Emma could hardly believe how far they'd travelled in six hours' time. Thanks to the fact that the magic compass had finally shown some sign of living up to its name, she and Jones had already reached the outer edge of the Western Wild.

Of course, they had encountered some large, hostile dragonflies in the marshes, but were able to fight them off with Jones' impressive swordsmanship. She knew he was a pirate, but hadn't really seen him in action with a weapon before.

He had shown her the proper way to hold a sword, a few basic movements and stances. Jones said that he wasn't surprised how she caught on so quickly, considering that Emma had held her own with a sword quite well before losing her memory.

She did have to admit that it felt very natural to wield the weapon and actually found it quite enjoyable, even though they were being attacked. It was empowering, much like when she used her magic.

Emma saw Jones stop for a rest, his horse coming to a halt, as he reached into his knapsack.

"The map indicates that The Garden of Youth should be just over the hilltop there." Jones held the rolled paper down against the horse with his gloved hand, his fingers tracing along the drawn lines.

Emma still had the compass around her neck, since it only seemed to work when it stayed against her chest. "And you think the compass is leading us to one of the rings; that it could be in this garden that Castrix told you about?"

"Indeed I do." He put the map back in his satchel and mounted the horse again.

Emma watched Jones take a long swig of his water, his throat bobbing up and down. It reminded her of a certain recent encounter.

_Of course, it had only been a dream._

When Jones explained to her that an incubus was a demon that seduces women in their dreams, she was petrified. If he hadn't been there to chase it off and wake her up…

He had also said that they often take form into something that would fulfill a woman's deepest desires, which of course mortified her on top of everything.

It wasn't a big secret to her that she found Jones attractive, but her blush had more than likely given her away, considering the smirk he had on his face.

He nudged his horse forward, mumbling over his shoulder. "We had better hope this garden has a spring, luv."

She caught the wink he gave her, his smirk remaining. "You must be positively parched from moaning my name all morning."

* * *

Emma knew they had arrived at the right place before Jones said anything. The compass' needle started spinning wildly again, the glow projecting from her neck.

Large stone walls surrounded the garden and were covered in thick vegetation, most of it dried and lifeless. The rustling of the desiccated shrubs nearly drowned out her voice, as the wind rattled them cruelly against the stone.

"I guess we should find the main entrance to this place," she joked, glancing sideways at Jones.

He didn't seem to be paying attention, already scanning the area for a way in. Something caught his attention and he moved toward the far end of the immense wall.

She followed him with her sword drawn, and realized immediately that they were heading toward a large, now rusted, golden gate. Like the wall, it was almost completely covered, the vines wrapping around the iron poles like thin, distorted, serpents.

Jones approached the gate carefully, sheathing his sword and pulling out his dagger to cut through the shrubbery. She was surprised to see a sign, similar to the one she had seen in the forest, only this one was clearly legible.

Emma read the words out loud, her voice resonating across the deserted land.

_Come in by the gold gates or not at all,  
Take of my fruit for others or forbear,  
For those who steal or those who climb my wall  
Shall find their heart's desire and find despair._

Jones stepped forward and yanked hard at the gate, his effort doing nothing to budge the heavy barrier. He moved back to stand next to Emma, and she looked over to see that he was rubbing his lower lip with his hand, a nervous habit of his.

He turned to her, his eyebrows raised. "Well, any thoughts on how we get the gate open?"

Emma was about to suggest that they use her magic, when something caught her eye. Amongst the dried shrubs were a few white flowers, their pedals extending over the vine as if to ask for her hand.

Walking closer toward one, she heard Jones murmur something about being careful. Emma leaned in to get a closer look, and saw that the stamen inside the flower was not the usual yellow color, but a glowing red. Transfixed, she reached out, the beautiful flower contracting toward her fingertips.

"Emma wait!"

He was there in an instant, yanking her back as she saw the flower shoot out a red, slimy substance that narrowly missed them both. The flower stopped oozing and curled back into itself, turning black, and then shriveled into nothing.

Panting at their near escape, she saw Jones give her a look of reproach.

"Blimey, lass. You trying to get yourself killed already?" He let out a humorless laugh, putting his dagger back into his boot. "I didn't realize I was such an intolerable traveling companion."

Emma gave him an apologetic look, not even having to ask to understand that flower had been poisonous. It had been so gorgeous, a hidden gem amongst a wall of death and stone.

"I'm sorry. It's just that they looked like-"

"Lilies. Yes, I know." He was giving her a small and genuine smile, the one that made her feel light as a feather.

_Of course_ he knew they were her favorite.

It was getting easier for Emma to acknowledge her connection with Jones. Much of their interaction had caused her to feel various emotions, but none of it was overly shocking. It was the familiarity between them, almost like they knew what to expect the other one to do or say.

She may only have just started getting her memories back, but it was clear that they were linked; in more ways than one.

Emma returned his smile bashfully, averting her eyes downward, and sheathed her sword. When she glanced back up to meet his gaze again, though, she saw that he was staring behind her shoulder.

Turning to the source of his distraction, Emma was taken aback. At the far end, nestled on the outer side of the wall, and reaching into the sky at least fifty feet, was a stone tower.

She couldn't believe they had missed that on their way in. Without a word, they both headed in that direction, Emma feeling the compass grow warmer.

It hadn't taken them long to reach the base, but she had to wonder why the tower was there to begin with. Emma imagined that it was probably put here for a good reason, and whatever awaited them at the top wouldn't be friendly.

Jones didn't appear to be shocked, but rather seemed overwhelmed by its size. "Do you suppose we should try our luck climbing then?"

Emma strained her neck upward, but the height of the tower made it impossible to see anything more.

"Well, it said on the gate that we couldn't climb the wall, but it didn't say anything about the tower." She looked sideways at him, frowning. "But how are you going to climb one-handed?"

He let out a whole-hearted chuckle, shaking his head in amusement as if enjoying an inside joke. "A reasonable question, indeed. Luckily…" he untwisted the gloved hand and reached into this jacket. "…our centaur mates were able to find me this."

Jones was holding what looked like a fisherman's hook, larger than the one that the police had confiscated in New York. Emma made a face that must have looked critical, because he was suddenly defensive. "Well, it's not what I am used to, but will serve a purpose."

Emma withheld a smile as she watched him force it into his brace fitting. "I bet you're happy to have a hook again."

She doubted it would work all that well, considering he only had a few vines and loose stone, but Jones seemed determined to climb.

"Oh, I don't know. I suppose the gloved hand isn't all that terrible." His mouth twitched like he wanted to smile, but he didn't. "Your mother rather preferred it over the hook."

Jones dug his boot into a divot, jabbing into one of the vines, and glanced over at her. "I'll climb and you wait here."

She wanted to protest, but he cut her off. "We'll need you on the ground in case something other than poisonous flowers come calling."

Emma narrowed her eyes, watching him continue his way upward. She should have been surprised that he was doing so well under the circumstances, but he seemed resilient in any environment.

Without warning, the vine holding Jones violently retracted, flinging him to the ground in a heap. She watched the sea of vines disappear back up the tower and walked to over to Jones, helping him up.

"Well, Captain. There goes the climbing idea." He dusted himself off, cursing under his breath, and Emma walked over to lean her hand against the stone wall. "So, now what?"

Suddenly, Emma felt the stone shake beneath her hand, and she leapt away from the wall. She was shocked to see the vines return, weaving their way back down the tower. Emma noticed that there were more of them this time, most of them much thicker than before.

Grabbing onto one of the vines, Emma waited for them to retract again, but they remained. It was if they had wanted _her_ to climb instead. She glanced over to see him shaking his head in amusement.

"Apparently it just needed a lady's touch, eh?"

She bit the inside of her cheek and turned to start her climb. "Let's get moving."

Jones made his way over to her and started up the tower again, the occasional clang of his hook against the stone echoing over the area.

After ten minutes or so, Emma broke the silence. "So it sounds like you're pretty close to my parents."

"I would consider them friends, yes. As Regina had said before, they were taken prisoner by the witch's henchman during a routine supplies run." He was breathing heavily now, and Emma tried not to let it distract her.

"I had insisted that Snow stay at the castle and that I would accompany your father, but she's so stubborn, your mother."

Emma felt a pang of sadness hit her chest. There was so much that she didn't know about her parents, the things they had done or what their personalities were like.

"You are very similiar to her in many ways."

He had said it in a low voice, but Emma could tell by his face that the words were genuine.

Just when Emma thought she had the man all figured out, he goes and says something like that. It was one thing to remember details about Emma that only a few people knew, but something so insightful, that also brought her comfort, was truly touching.

They were approaching the top, Emma realizing the tower probably hadn't been as tall as she first thought. Fortunately for them, the vines traveled all the way into the opening of the turret, allowing them to crawl inside without much trouble.

Her boots clattered onto the stone floor, the inside much darker than the exterior. The window had been just big enough for her and Jones to climb through, and let in a limited amount of light. The area was quite small, no bigger than an average bathroom. Despite her having become accustomed to the chilliness of the autumn air, the small room was even colder, making Emma shiver.

It didn't take them long to realize there was nothing here, apart from a small tree wrapped in the vines that had assisted in them getting to the top. Jones let out an exasperated sigh, using his calloused hand to push away the tendrils of hair stuck to his sweaty forehead.

"This is what we climbed up here for?"

Emma felt her lungs deflate. It just seemed like they hit one dead end after another. Not that it had taken them that long to get up here, but they were running out of time and weren't any closer to finding one of the rings.

A rustling sound startled them both, and they both pulled out their swords in defense. Emma squint her eyes in the dark to see the tree squirming in the corner, its branches extending outward. Jones stepped forward, shielding her from the strange plant.

She noticed the leaves disappearing, the vines traveling into the tree, as the limbs shortened into what looked like arms. Through the dim light, Emma somehow made out two, round, very black eyes shining back at them from the top of the tree.

Only it was no longer a tree. It was a woman.

Covered in only a short dress made of vines, she was flawless; her brown skin smooth despite being wrapped in shrubbery, and her dark, curly hair seemed to shine even in the dim light. Extending her hand out, she looked directly at Emma. "I've been waiting for you."

Emma turned to gauge Jones' reaction and was annoyed to see that he looked amused. After giving the woman a once over, he caught Emma's stare and looked down as if caught.

The strange woman shifted, and Emma raised an eyebrow at her in confusion. "Sorry, but who are you?"

"I was turned into a tree nymph by an evil queen, but when I lived in another land, I was known as Rapunzel."

Someone could have knocked Emma over with one of this tree lady's twigs. How on earth did the folks who wrote fairytales get this one so screwed up?

_Rapunzel is a tree?_

Trying not to show her surprise, Emma gave a polite smile in hopes of placating her. "Oh, I see. Is there any chance that you were sent here by Regina?"

Rapunzel furrowed her brow in confusion. "I am not familiar with that name, but I do know the queen who sent me called herself Maleficent."

Emma and Jones exchanged looks, but decided not to push any further on that particular subject. It was Jones who finally spoke.

"So you are from the Enchanted Forest, then?"

When the woman nodded slowly, Jones smiled. "Well, what a coincidence. We, too, hail from that land."

Emma had become accustomed to his smooth talk, but didn't care to see him practice it on someone other than herself; which of course annoyed her.

Rapunzel smiled, still looking at Emma, as if she had something else to say to her. Jones wasn't fazed, however, and continued in his usual suave manner.

"You don't happen to know of a ring that is rumored to be hidden here by any chance, do you Darling?"

Her smile vanished then, and Rapunzel looked back at Jones. "That is why I was put here; to watch over the ring until the witch returns for it."

The woman's voice had sounded much like a sweet melody before, but the forewarning in her words now gave Emma pause. "Many have tried to enter the garden, but none were worthy."

Rapunzel took a step closer to Emma and motioned toward her, the shrubbery of her dress scraping along the floor. "That is, until _you_."

The temperature of the room now seemed even colder, the wind howling against the stone around them, and Emma cautiously addressed Rapunzel. "So I assume you won't stop me from taking it then?"

Rapunzel shook her head, the dark curls bouncing to and fro. "I won't need to."

Jones looked back, frowning at Emma apprehensively, as if to extract a plan of action from her. Emma didn't hesitate, however, meeting the woman's gaze again.

"How do I get into the garden, then?"

"The window, of course." Rapunzel smiled briefly, her perfect teeth shining over her plump, red lips, and she gestured toward the window that they had climbed through, the smile fading again.

"Though, be warned. A tree that grows within will bring you both euphoria and despair."

Giving Emma one last look, Rapunzel turned with her back against the window. Her body hunched over, spine bending, the woman's once curly hair turned into solid vines that creaked and twisted their way out the window and down the tower.

Rapunzel now back in tree form, Jones moved to stand next to Emma, his good hand coming to rest on her shoulder.

"I'm coming with you, luv." She opened her mouth to argue, but he insisted. "You shouldn't do this alone."

Emma noticed that he had said "shouldn't," rather than "can't" which meant a great deal to her, even in that moment. However, if what Rapunzel had said was true, there was a good chance they may not make it out of this place alive.

She pursed her lips at him, arms on either hip as if ready to resist. Still, Emma knew convincing him to stay there was a losing battle.

"We are in this together, Emma," he said to her softly with a determined look. "We always have been."

Even though she hadn't regained all of her memories, she knew Jones was right. Emma felt like they had come so far already, and that (according to him) this wasn't the first time they had risked their lives together.

Nodding her head slowly and without another word, Emma swung her leg over the tree and started the climb down the tower, leading into the garden. She heard Jones' hook crunch into a vine above her and briefly wondered whether Rapunzel would feel the shooting pain.

It was much easier climbing down, and within minutes they were standing on the other side of the stone wall, in what Emma guessed was the "Garden of Youth." However, the garden she remembered reading about as a child was nothing like this one appeared to be.

Emma found it difficult to see much beyond the dense fog that surrounded them; the perimerter of the wall lost in a haze, due to the garden's immense size. Despite the lack of visibility, though, she spotted a fountain sitting not far away. It had apparently dried up long ago, shrubs and vines winding their way around its base.

The air felt so much warmer compared to that in the tower, and the wind had seized completely. Like the woods with the portal pools, she felt comfortable, almost giddy, and there was a very pleasant smell that reminded her of a vanilla candle burning.

There was hardly a sound to be heard, besides the shuffling of their boots on the ground and the cawing of a few crows off in the distance.

Jones had come to stand next to her, his good hand brushing against hers lightly in support. He seemed to understand that something of importance was about to happen, as they slowly moved forward into the cloudy unknown.

She could make out a few trees growing in parallel rows along the path they followed, but noticed they had no leaves, their crooked branches slumped over wretchedly. It seemed the clouds refused to disperse, and sunlight became more and more infrequent since they arrived in Narnia.

"Look there, lass." Jones pointed straight ahead to a tree which stood before them, its enormous trunk supporting the low-lying branches, which were covered in leaves, unlike the others in the garden. Her eyebrows raised in surprise when she saw that there were apples on this tree, scattered about the leaves, some in clusters.

Only they weren't ordinary apples. They were silver, decorating the tree like Christmas ornaments.

Upon closer inspection, Emma also realized that the leaves weren't actually leaves at all, but feathers. Each one appeared black and somewhat translucent, and Emma inwardly wondered whether they could stay on the branches if there was even the slightest breeze.

Unable to resist, Emma reached out to touch one, the feather leaf dissolving instantly to ash in her palm. Jones frowned, clearly as confused as she was, and started to make his way around the massive trunk for any sign of the ring.

Suddenly, she saw something yellow twinkle from above her head. This was stark in comparison to the black and silver, and Emma noticed that it shone like the sun. Craning her neck up to the source, Emma was astounded at the sight, the compass now nearly burning the skin on her chest.

There, hanging high atop the many feathers, was a golden apple.

She considered climbing at first, but remembered the words on the gate and Rapunzel's prior warning. Surely, this apple was special and the compass had led them to this point for a reason.

Emma decided to try a test, plucking a silver one that hung at eye level off the branch with a quick yank. She waited for some type of danger to befall her, but none came. Holding the silver orb in her hand, Emma felt the sudden pang of hunger overcome her stomach.

"Mom?"

Her heart must have completely stopped in that moment, his voice filling her with such a yearning, the apple suddenly paled in comparison. Jerking her head upward, Emma let out a small gasp, which nearly boomed over the peculiar silence around them.

"Henry?" There, leaning up against the trunk of the strange tree was her son, his eyes wide and excited. There was a faint glow around him, like a halo, and he shone more brightly than the apples above him.

"Yeah, it's me, Mom." He ran to her quickly, his arms wrapping around her middle as they collided with a thump. Her hand stroked his hair as Emma let out a long breath she didn't realize she had been holding.

Looking down into his face, Emma did her best to keep her voice steady. "I was so worried about you."

He grinned widely at her and took a step back out of her embrace. Emma reached out for him again, but he pointed to the apple in her hand. "Aren't you going to eat that? They're really delicious."

Emma glanced at the apple, filling her with an intense longing again, as she rubbed her thumb over its glossy skin. She felt her mouth fill with saliva, but looked up at Henry again, and frowned.

"But how did you get here, Kiddo? I thought you were with Regina and Neal in the Enchanted Forest."

Henry's smile faded and he picked one of the silver apples from the tree, tossing it in his hand. "They aren't my real family. You are."

He stopped to consider the apple for a moment, and then continued. "We can run away you know; escape all of this craziness. It can be like it used to be, just you and me, remember? This world of magic can't make us happy, Mom. We shouldn't be here."

A part of her felt exuberant at his speech, filling her up with a sense of being needed and loved. He still wanted her by his side, and Emma felt her fear of being replaced in her son's life disappear.

Suddenly, she remembered what Henry had said back in Storybrooke, loud and clear in her head. '_This is where we belong.'_

Emma's stomach dropped, the feeling of hope from before, now evaporating into the fog surrounding them. Henry looked directly into her eyes, as if to read her thoughts, and Emma saw only emptiness there. This boy was like a stranger to her, his voice an echo of nothingness in a bottomless cave.

Something was wrong; this wasn't her son.

_This wasn't real._

Her instincts taking over, Emma drew her sword and swung it violently at the mysterious thing posing as Henry. She caught a glimpse of surprise and anger on the vision's face before it disappeared into a cloud of black smoke.

There was a heavy shaking of the ground, Emma stumbling, and she saw a shimmering at the top of the tree. The golden apple vibrated violently, plummeting to the ground, before Emma caught it in her hand.

It opened almost immediately, revealing a sparkling gold ring nestled on emerald velvet.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the vines that Rapunzel provided retract upward and back into the window, out of sight. There was a bright flash of light as the window closed up, and the tower collapsed into the ground as if it had never been there at all.

Emma barely had time to wonder what had happened to Rapunzel, when a loud clang rang out over the garden. She saw the golden gates swing open slowly, as if to beacon her to safety, its rusty hinges groaning under the weight.

Her heart thumping in her chest, Emma suddenly remembered Jones and opened her mouth to yell out, before she heard a choked sob. She threw the ring into her knapsack and was around the tree trunk in a second, wielding her sword, but stopped short at the astonishing sight that awaited her.

Jones was slumped over, his arms outstretched, as if begging for his life. Emma looked around wildly for the source of his misery, but saw nothing and no one else.

"Jones," she nearly shouted, shaking him on the shoulder. The man was completely unresponsive, merely rambling incoherently under his breath. He fell to his knees without warning, a silver apple clutched in his good hand, as he sobbed.

"Milah." The word was barely audible, but she was sure he had said that name. What's more, Emma was sure she had heard that name before, but kept her focus on getting Jones to come to his senses.

Emma knelt down, swatting the apple out of his hand, and raised her voice in hopes of reviving him that way. "Jones, it's not real. You have to snap out of it; we have to get out of here!"

His eyes brimmed with tears, a look of desperation there that ripped at Emma's heart. He was literally inconsolable, his voice broken and begging.

"Please…please, forgive me." He was looking right at Emma now, but she knew it wasn't to her that he was speaking. She could see that this was a wound from many years ago, long before they had ever met, and Emma felt powerless to help him.

Without thinking, she put her hands on either sides of his face, her fingers trembling beneath his sweaty scruff. His breath was ragged and his skin radiated a heat that would have put the Incubus to shame.

Emma leaned in closer, placing her forehead on Jones' and whispered to him. "Come back to me."

His eyes flew open and there was a sharp intake of breath, as Jones looked around him in panic. "What...but, where-?"

"It wasn't real; just a vision to distract us from getting _this_."

Emma pulled out the golden apple holding the ring and Jones' teary eyes went wide, a slow smile spreading over his face. She had never been so happy to see him smile at her.

Without warning, all of the leaves on tree dropped to an ashy pile on the ground, smoke escaping from the heap. Emma had barely a moment to ask Jones what was happening, and something rose out the ashes, blooming into bright colors of red, yellow, and orange.

It was a large bird, the feather's shimmering with hints of gold and silver, its sharp beak reaching into the sky as it sang out in triumph. Suddenly, it occurred to Emma that she remembered this creature from the story of Narnia.

Jones made the connection too, a small gasp escaping his lips. "A phoenix. I have only heard about them in legend."

The bird looked at them for a moment, its bright black eyes surveying them closely, and then it took flight over the southern wall, its wing span reaching wide, as it glided toward the horizon and out of sight.

Jones turned back to the ring and considered it for a moment, his fingertips grazing its surface, before meeting her eyes once more.

"You had the ring." She nodded as if it was hard for her to believe too, as Jones maintained her gaze. "And you remained here for me, despite the risk."

Emma frowned and searched his face for any sign of teasing, but found none. It suddenly occurred to her why this had meant so much to him, and Emma sighed, before giving Jones a poignant look.

"I'm not making that mistake ever again."

As if it was the most natural thing in the world, Emma pulled him in for an embrace, her heart still pounding over the excitement. Jones returned the hug deeply with a contented sigh.

After a moment, Emma slowly pulled away and moved to stand, a knowing grin on her face. "Besides, we're in this together, right?"

He nodded slowly, the smile ebbing from his lips, as she reached out to help him to his feet.

"Now let's get the hell out of here before any more gorgeous tree women show up."

* * *

**A/N: One ring down, one to go. Did any of you initially think it was really Henry in the garden? Please take a quick second to leave a comment.**

**Next chapter: Hook shows Emma another side of him and the two of them take a crack at finding the second ring.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Don't let the unlucky "13" scare you away from this chapter; although there is certainly some darkness to come. Thank you for following, favoriting, and reviewing (and to those who are "guests"). And as usual, a thanks to JJ for her ongoing efforts in editing.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own ****_Once Upon a Time_**** or any of its characters, nor anything from C.S. Lewis' ****_The Chronicles of Narnia._**

* * *

_When the days are cold  
And the cards all fold  
And the saints we see  
Are all made of gold_

_When your dreams all fail_  
_And the ones we hail_  
_Are the worst of all_  
_And the blood's run stale..._

It was nearly nightfall when they reached the rock bridge that Jones had marked on the map. Emma wasn't positive, but it seemed to get colder as they headed further south, her hands nearly numb from the biting wind.

She could hardly believe they had got this far with all of the dangers she and Jones had faced, and it helped to raise her spirits that they at least had one of the rings in their possession. Seeing the vision of Henry had only strengthened her resolve to find that second ring and get back to the Enchanted Forest as quickly as possible.

Still, Emma couldn't stop thinking about how devastated Jones had been in the garden. His vision had something to do with a woman named "Milah," and it was obvious that she had meant a great deal to him. Emma assumed she already knew about this woman, but like most of her memories, the name was shrouded in mystery.

Jones said the map indicated that they had travelled all the way to the western edge of Narnia. The compass now pointed east, but was leading them south of the original path they had taken from the castle. He had suspicions that the ring might be somewhere near the Shuddering Wood, about fifteen miles away.

The rock bridge that Jones had mentioned they choose for their campsite was exactly what Emma had expected it to be. With a steep mountain on one side and a solid pile of rocks on the other, and suspending at least a hundred feet above them, the landmark was a nature-made Golden Gate Bridge.

Jones dismounted before helping Emma off the horse, and his bare hand brushed against the exposed skin on her waist from where her jacket rode up, creating a tingle there.

It was obvious that Emma had been attracted to Jones from the beginning; even when he had kissed her in the hallway, despite how appalled she had been and how she had reacted then.

After her little run in with the Viagra demon, Emma still found it extremely hard not to let her mind wander at the thought of feeling Jones' lips on hers; to find out how crafty that tongue of his _really_ was.

She watched him closely as he leaned over the pile of wood he had collected, and his gaze jumped up to hers suddenly, catching her ogling him. With a lazy smirk, Jones gave her an expectant look.

"Care to light my fire, Darling?"

Her mouth opened slightly, her head reeling with possibilities, before she understood that he wanted her to use her magic.

Emma narrowed her eyes to make it look like she wasn't amused, glancing over the pile of wood with hesitation. She hadn't been able to produce magic without being under duress since the cupcake, and she highly doubted that would be a big enough spark to get this fire going.

"Go on, then."

Jones massaged his lower lip with his tongue, something she had seen him do before when he concentrated, and Emma felt a surging tingle spread over her body.

Her mind now muddled with yearning, Emma reached out her hand over the pile, and was surprised to feel heat generate from her hand almost immediately. A small trail of smoke rose from the wood, filling her nostrils with moldy pine and her sense of self with accomplishment.

Jones leaned over, gently blowing on the wood, as his eyes stared into hers. Emma's hand suddenly felt like it was hovering over an open oven, and she leapt back as the pile burst into flame, its light illuminating the giant rock formation looming over their heads.

He removed his jacket, laying it near his pile of gear, and unpacked a few rations that Castrix's guards had provided them, placing them into a cast iron skillet. Shaking his head, Jones met her eyes again.

"You never cease to amaze me, Swan."

He had the undeniable ability to make her heart beat faster with just a handful of words, his facial expressions and movements imprinting on her brain.

How had she _ever_ managed to forget this man?

She gave him a bashful look and shook her head.

"I'm not sure how I can do it, to be honest. Most of the time, I don't even think about it. It usually happens during a moment of passionate feeling."

Jones continued cooking their dinner, flashing a brilliant smile. "Well no one can deny that you are a passionate woman, luv," he said, the food sizzling in the pan.

Something about that statement seemed to awaken a curiosity in Emma, and her next words came out before she could stop them.

"Was Milah passionate?"

Emma could tell immediately that she had taken the pirate by surprise, his hand tensing around the handle of the pan. He stood up, filling both of their plates; Emma suddenly feeling very ashamed for having sprung the question on him that way.

"Aye. She was, indeed."

Emma bit into the lean rabbit they had caught earlier, its earthy juices satisfying her hunger. Jones silently asked her if he could sit down and she nodded, moving over a bit to make room for him.

He started to devour his dinner, but paused after a few minutes to shoot her a questioning look.

"You don't remember anything I had told you about her?"

Regina had said something about Gold and Jones having a centuries-old dispute over a woman when Gold was known as Rumpelstiltskin. If Emma had to guess, Milah had something to do with it.

"No; though I could tell whatever happened with her must have hurt you pretty badly," Emma said, keeping her gaze on the fire.

For a long minute, she thought he wouldn't say anything else, as somewhere nearby a large stone tumbled down the rock bridge, the clattering sound echoing over the camp.

Jones took in a deep breath, putting down his empty plate, and Emma braced herself for a truth that might be difficult to hear.

"Imagine yourself residing in a dark room for centuries, focusing all of your energy on trying to let go; let go of the pain and loneliness consuming you. It's unbearable at first, and you swear you won't survive, but it's the very same pain you feel that maintains any sense of reality."

Emma turned to his profile, watching the movement of every muscle in Jones' body. His broad shoulders were strained, and his hand shook slightly as he carefully unraveled himself to her.

"Eventually, though, you start to forget the little things, like the way her nose crinkled when she laughed or the sound of her breathing right before falling asleep in your arms. You drink enough rum and you take enough women to numb the ache, to push aside the feeling of needing anyone else again."

Something in his confession struck Emma close to home, and her throat tightened. The illumination from the flickering fire created shadows on his face, his scruff-covered jaw line appearing stoic, and suddenly Jones looked like a completely different man, almost menacing.

"Then your pain turns into rage, until it consumes you completely and there's nothing. There is only emptiness, and you're left with the realization that there is no happy ending; just the reckoning to be had."

He pulled his head toward her then, a look of utter failure in his features.

"I just wanted it to be over; to even the scales and finally rest. In three hundred years Emma, all I accomplished was forgetting those I loved, and the man I once was."

Jones paused a moment, eyes downcast, and then he turned his gaze forward again, hanging his head low.

"Rumpelstiltskin took a great deal from me when he murdered Milah, but I destroyed the rest; until nothing remained but an empty flask and a bloodied hook."

As difficult as it had been to hear him speak that way about another woman, to see his eyes so filled with grief, Emma knew it must have been even harder for Jones to tell her something like that.

She didn't think it was possible to have words strike her so deeply, especially when they came from a man she had known for such a short time.

But perhaps that was the point: maybe she didn't know him as well as she'd thought.

And yet, Jones had told her something that he may have never told anyone. As much as she had done for him, Emma had yet to open herself up to him like that.

"I lied when you asked me if I remembered anything and I told you that I hadn't," she said, breaking the silence between them. "I've been having flashes of memories for about a year; they come and go."

He turned his head toward her slowly, his brow quirking in question.

"I believe you already told me that bit of information during breakfast a few mornings back."

Jones stood up, grabbing his backpack and unrolled a sleeping bag near the fire, a pair of hooting owls creating lonely melody around them.

"No. I told you about my dream, but not about the visions." She unpacked her things next to his. "It's happening slowly, but I've had memories of Neal, my mom, and even Regina."

"I see," he mumbled lightly, climbing into his bedding and removing the hook from his brace.

She felt a heaviness fall over her chest at the disappointment in his voice. Every reminder that she hadn't completely regained her memory was like a strike to Emma's heart.

Climbing into her bag, she felt the wind blow harder and colder around them. She took a moment to reconsider before she carefully leaned in to her left and closer to Jones, her side against his.

Jones shifted to his right side, propping himself up with an elbow, and moving to say something. Emma covered his mouth with her finger, giving him a warning look.

"I'm getting chilly, so save it buddy."

He kissed her finger briefly with a wink, and she rolled her eyes, pulling away. Emma shifted so that her back nearly resting against his chest. Jones chuckled softly, as the fire continued to crackle, filling the air with the words still unsaid between them.

Emma felt her eyes droop and relaxation actually set in when Jones spoke again, his voice playful.

"Were there any memories that included a dashing, one-handed pirate, luv?"

Allowing herself to smile since he couldn't see her face, Emma responded without hesitation. "No, not really."

He sighed deeply, obviously disappointed, and Emma slowly moved to grab Jones' good hand, wrapping his arm over her body, and whispering in the firelight.

"But I'm working on making some pretty good new ones."

_I wanna hide the truth  
I wanna shelter you  
But with the beast inside  
There's no where we can hide..._

* * *

It wasn't the howling of a wolf, or even the hint of sunlight poking through the dense cloud cover that woke Emma the next morning. Jones' body had shifted under her arm, which was now drapped over his chest, the warmth radiating through his thin, black shirt.

The openings of their sleeping bags were facing each other, and at some point she snuggled into his chest. Emma's body went rigged at first, her initial reaction being to get up and start packing. She glanced over at him carefully and noticed that Jones' braced arm was tucked under his head, his expression calm.

"Good morning, Sweetheart."

Slowly, he used his good hand to brush a lock of golden hair from her cheek, his eyes searching hers for any hint of anger or fear at his touch.

Her heartbeat picking up its pace, Emma's body relaxed into him again, and met his stare without hesitation. "Hey," she breathed back, a small smile daring to show itself on her face.

They stayed like that a few moments longer, a look of understanding on his features. Jones clasped her hand in his before brushing it with his lips. To her disappointment, he stood up afterward, and made his way over to the horses to pack their gear.

"There is a lake just a few miles from our location. We could stop there before we head south."

Emma crawled out of her bag and pulled on her jacket, reflecting on their lack of hygiene over the last two days. She had bathed before they left the castle, but since then, they had to settle for rinsing off at the river's edge when they camped for the night. Besides that, there were no humans in Narnia, so she and Jones hadn't changed clothes since they left Storybrooke.

Of course, she hadn't seen Jones change clothes at all, and still the man smelled better than a delicious morsel of food. A delicious morsel of food, wrapped in masculine spice and coconut rum, wrapped in lust.

Emma couldn't help but feel warm, despite the increasingly frigid air around them, as she finished filling their canteens at the stream.

"So you think that another ring is somewhere near this Shuddering Wood place?" Emma asked Jones, making her way back over him.

Jones shook his head and helped Emma onto the horse. "Well, the compass indicates that we need to head southeast, and the map is showing that as the next major landmark."

Emma took a drink of the bitterly cold water, glancing around for any sign of the lake. Jones mounted his horse and they set of immediately at a brisk pace.

After a few minutes, Emma spoke.

"Why did you kiss me?"

The question had hung on her lips for days, the need to understand finally spilling over. This was a good a time to ask him as any other.

"You'll need to be more specific on which occasion, luv." She was somewhat surprised to see that Jones didn't appear anxious, the corner of his mouth twitching in delight. "As I certainly can't take credit for the incubus, you see-"

"I meant in New York," she huffed, annoyed at the small snort she heard from him. The wind bit into her face and she wrapped the collar of her sweater up past her chin.

His face turned more serious then, his gaze forward as he answered with some hesitation. "It wasn't the first time."

That had come as no shock to her, Emma having figured that they had probably kissed at least once before she lost her memory. His withdrawn demeanor, though, gave her pause.

As much as Emma wanted to know more about what happened between them, she didn't push; Jones would tell her when he was ready.

After a few seconds of silence, though, he continued.

"While we were in Neverland, I had saved your father's life. He had been struck with a poison arrow and I was able to find something to keep him alive."

Emma noticed the ground now appeared firm beneath the horses' hooves, frost replacing the dew drops on the grass.

"You and I had grown closer during our journey there and I asked you for a show of thanks," his voice grew low and Emma was amused to see that Jones actually looked bashful, his ears turning red.

Her eyebrows rose and she held back a smirk.

"I was that good, huh?"

Jones barked a laugh that rang over the quiet land, his cloud of breath coming out like exhaust from a tailpipe.

"That you were, indeed."

Emma threw a mock scowl his way, the sun peeking through the clouds again briefly.

"Sounds like you guilted me into it, Jones," she teased him.

She could still tell from this angle that he was enjoying her teasing, his teeth gleaming against the rare sunlight.

"You certainly didn't need much coercion, Darling."

Emma quietly giggled into the collar of her sweater and turned to him, her face red from the cold breeze and the blush creeping onto her cheeks.

"How do I know you're not just lying to me?"

He met her eyes, and she saw that they twinkled with mischief.

"I may be a pirate, but I do follow a code."

Jones turned his head back to face forward, and she caught a glimpse of the lake he had mentioned about a hundred yards away.

"Although I must admit," he continued, his face now serious, "you did seem to have a bit of remorse afterward." Emma caught a hint of sadness in his voice. "You had said it was a 'one-time thing.'"

She felt a pang of shame strike her, and Emma moved to respond, but was cut off.

There was a loud howl, long and mournful, as Jones stopped the horse and looked around, panicked.

"Don't make a sound." His voice was hushed and Emma frowned in confusion. Suddenly, Jones' eyes went wide with fear, as the horses whinnied anxiously beneath them.

Jones leaned over and grasped her arm, his tone stern. "Listen to me, I want you to head toward that lake," he said pointing ahead.

Emma shot him an incredulous look, but he had already gone back to searching for any other signs of danger.

"I'll be right behind you, luv."

"Jones-

Another loud howl cut her off, this one sounding angry, making her breath hitch.

Jones drew his sword from while still on the horse and slapped the horse's rear, making it surge forward toward the lake. The animal's breath was ragged, its muscles tensing under her legs, as hooves crunched over the frozen blades of grass beneath.

Emma's heart pounded against her chest, the biting wind blurring her vision and numbing her hands, which gripped onto the reins like a lifeline.

The lake hadn't been as far as she thought, and a row of pines stretched across the plains between her and the water's edge. She wanted to look back for him, but Emma knew that he could take care of himself. Jones had never left her before, so he would meet her soon enough.

As she approached the lake, however, Emma realized that it was covered in a layer of ice, thick and solid. They came to a halt and she dismounted quickly, her boots painfully connecting with the frozen ground.

Pulling out her sword, Emma looked for any sign of movement. Nothing could seen but a flock of buzzards circling in the distance, the line of trees making it impossible to see what was going on.

The howling had stopped now, the silence scaring her even more.

Please be safe. Please be safe.

There were no birds singing, no indication of life at all, just the cracking of twigs beneath her feet as she strained her eyes for Jones.

"My, oh my."

A gruff voice startled Emma so much that she jumped, her boot catching on frozen tree root, and she stumbled to the ground. Her horse startled violently, ripping away from the branch and took off toward the tree line.

Regaining her wits, Emma looked up from a sitting position, and propped herself up to meet the source of the voice face-to-face.

It was a miracle that she hadn't gasped out loud. The wolf creature standing before her must have been six or seven feet in height, taller than her horse. He stood on two hind legs, hunched over with arms almost as long as he was.

His fur was a dark grey, dusted with hints of silver, and his large paws were as big as baseball gloves that had lanky fingers lined with sharp claws.

"I believe you look lost, my dear."

The words rumbled from his chest, the wolf creature's jagged, yellow showing, as his mouth was positioned into a sinister grin.

Emma slowly let out the breath she had been holding, doing the best she could not to show any sign of fear. "Who are you?" Her voice was steady, but she hesitated before slowly getting to her feet.

His dark chuckle was raspy, like sandpaper, and as fearsome as he was, Emma guessed that this creature was no young pup.

"I could ask you the same question; seeing as you have stumbled onto our land."

She maintained some composure, her hands shaking slightly at her sides. "Emma Swan."

His bushy, white eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Swan, eh?"

His look of amusement turned to curiosity, as he slowly paced back and forth only a few feet in front of her, the strong muscles flexing beneath his fur.

"My name is Vardan. I am the leader of my pack and a werewolf." She felt her heart twitch at that, as he continued.

"I once followed the White Witch during her reign, but was forced to stay here when the land and most of its inhabitants were destroyed."

She reeled in the information, and remembered the White Witch from the Narnian stories. As Emma recalled, she was not a pleasant woman, turning the land into a frozen tundra for many years.

Vardan stopped suddenly and stared into her face, his eyes as black as coal.

"Why have you come to Narnia?"

Emma was about to speak, but she saw his gaze shift down to the compass, growing wide with excitement.

"Ah, what have we here?"

Carefully, the werewolf leaned over and grabbed the chain with his paw, the razor claws grazing against her neck. Inwardly panicking, Emma also considered the golden apple holding a portal ring.

She twitched irritably and he noticed, his smile returning once more.

"It must be valuable, I take it?"

She watched as he turned the compass over in his hairy fingers, and was inwardly pleased to see that it was no longer glowing.

Vardan noticed this also and seemed immediately annoyed. "What happened? Why isn't it working?"

After a few moments of her silence, the werewolf threw the compass aside, his face flashing signs of anger now.

"No matter," he growled at her, his voice laced with sarcasm. "You see, we werewolves don't value treasure as much as pleasure."

The creature's breath had the undeniable smell of blood and Emma's stomach plummeted.

_Jones._

"We can survive for months without eating, and never slow in our quest for carnage."

Emma's eyes glanced once more over to the sword, but knew she wouldn't get to it in time due to the werewolf's proximity.

"And when we finally find a being to quench the overwhelming thirst," Vardan snarled, his fur sticking up on his back, "there is no escaping our lust for blood."

Without warning, the werewolf was knocked sideways, his body hurling into a heap a few feet away. Emma had just enough time to grab her sword, glancing up to see Jones jumping off of the back of the horse and pulling it toward her.

"Get on, now!" Jones helped her into the saddle, as Vardan slowly got to his feet, fury flashing across his features.

She didn't need Jones to speak this time, his intent very clear, but she was determined to stay. "You're coming with me."

"There isn't time, Emma. Please."

She didn't have time to respond, and the werewolf leapt at them, his enraged roar shaking Emma down to her boots. Jones swung his hook in an attempt to keep the creature at bay, but Vardan swiped his massive paw against Jones' shoulder, knocking him to the ground with a thump.

Emma yelled out to Jones as the horse reared up, and she was nearly thrown to the ground with him, somehow maintaining her balance. Instinctively, Emma plunged her sword down into the werewolf with force, who howled in pain as she felt blade meet bone near his right shoulder.

Vardan hunched over in agony, blood splattering red onto the snow-dusted grass next to Jones. He was down on one knee, holding his arm in discomfort as Emma made her way over to him.

Before she could hoist him on with her, another series of howls rang out, this time the chorus of multiple wolves. Jones didn't hesitate, grabbing the reigns and running out on the lake with Emma still mounted to the horse.

The frosty ice beneath them appeared wet and slippery, but he didn't seem to have much trouble putting distance between the two of them and Vardan's pack.

She glanced back and saw the injured werewolf regain his senses, the look of calm in the creature's eyes striking terror into her heart.

They had made it about twenty yards away, when Jones pulled the horse to stop. Emma realized at that point, that he had no intention of running away, moving slowly to draw his sword.

Jones stopped her before she could dismount, using his good hand to yank on the hilt of his weapon, but to no avail. The sword would not budge.

She felt her breath catch and saw that Jones' blade was frozen to the scabbard.

They were defenseless and outnumbered, and there was no way the horse could outrun all the wolves while carrying both of them.

Emma noticed the buzzards flying over their heads again, sensing that the mangy birds were desperate for a reason to land. She glanced down to see Jones wincing in obvious pain, his breath ragged.

There was a triumphant look on Vardan's face, his jagged, yellowed teeth showing again.

"As I said; there is no escape."

The other wolves slowly closed in for the kill, and Jones turned back to make eye contact with her, Emma's heart breaking at the defeat written on his face.

_No please. Not like this._

Suddenly, there was a large crack, like sound of bat connecting with a baseball. Emma watched Jones take a few cautious steps in her direction, his hand out behind him as if to urge her backwards also.

It happened in a split second, and Emma caught the fear in Vardan's eyes before the group of wolves plummeted into the icy water, a string of animalistic cries resounding over the arctic landscape.

Emma glanced down at Jones as the pack continued their futile struggle, and helped hoist him on to the horse. Without a second look, she dug her heels in, and they sped off toward the other side of the lake.

There was no time to stop and check Jones; no time to think about what had happened. So she pushed the horse onward, off of the lake, into the forest, and as far away from danger as possible, the last remnants of anguished howling ringing in her ears.

_No matter what we bree__d  
We still are made of greed  
This is my kingdom come  
This is my kingdom come_

* * *

**A/N: Lyrics throughout the chapter: Imagine Dragons. "Demons." _Night Visions._****2012. Interscope.  
**  
Ok, so I challenge everyone who has followed/favorited to comment at least **_once_****, even if just to say a couple words: good or bad. I assume you're following for a reason, so PLEASE make my day and click that little review button below. Thank you!**

**Next chapter: Emma faces her biggest challenge yet and Jones meets her halfway.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Hey all- The Narnia section of their journey is nearly at an end. Thanks for following, favoriting, and reviewing. Many of you rose to the challenge and reviewed for the first time, and I hope you keep it up (the guests too) as some of those comments really force me to think even more than I already do. I also want to thank JJ, as always, for her awesome editing and support. **

**I don't expect to have the entire story done by the time the show comes back. Who knows, maybe I'll just keep writing…**

**Disclaimer: I don't own ****_Once Upon a Time_**** or its characters or anything from C.S. Lewis' ****_The Chronicles of Narnia _****series.**

**Rating: This chapter is ****M**** for language and innuendo.**

* * *

Emma wanted to tell Jones that he'd been an idiot; that she wanted to kick his ass for scaring the hell out of her just now, and kiss him senseless for saving her life.

Instead, she settled for keeping the horse moving, while he guided them with the compass; heading further south along the river's edge. Emma decided they should rest since she was confident that they had traveled far enough not to be found by any stray wolves.

They came to a halt in a clearing just somewhere within the Shuddering Woods. Dismounting onto the frozen ground with a thud, Emma helped Jones sit so she could dress the wound. She knelt down beside him and pulled out the supplies from her backpack, Jones humming idly above her as Emma set to work.

He was surprisingly alert and relaxed, considering the grave circumstances from before. Only when Jones assured her that the gash on his arm was only a scratch from the werewolf's paw and not a bite, was she able to calm down.

She finished dressing the wound and Jones stood up quickly, heading over toward the horse again.

"We really need to get moving, luv," he mumbled under his breath, pulling his jacket back on.

He didn't wince in the slightest, and Emma guessed that either the pirate was acting macho for her sake, or Dorian's medical salve was the real deal.

_Probably a little of both._

Emma sighed and joined him over by the horse, using his shoulder to assist her into the saddle.

"I doubt we'll be seeing those wolves any time soon," she said, sliding back so that Jones could mount the horse. "They're probably a bunch of _pup_sicles by now."

Emma took a second to find humor in the situation, but Jones just looked back at her, nodding.

"Indeed. The compass is telling us to continue south, and I believe we may be getting close to another ring."

Thank goodness, too, because the weather seemed to be working harder and harder against them as they traveled on. Despite their apparent ability to face any challenge, Emma was more than ready to find that other ring and get back to her son.

And if they didn't find one soon, she might just have a need for a hook herself from losing a hand to frostbite.

* * *

Emma had thought the terrain had been desolate and quiet before, but this was starting to get creepy.

They had traveled over two hours, the sun nearly gone over the horizon, and they hadn't heard a single sound or caught any sign of life besides a mountain in the distance. The wind continued its onslaught of torture, the cold penetrating both of Emma's layers.

Jones seemed uncomfortable too, his body shivering against her chest, as Emma leaned into him. She twiddled the cold, brass clasps of his jacket between her fingers, maintaining her balance as they headed out of the forest.

She frowned and looked around in confusion. "Are you sure I shouldn't hold the compass? We passed the forest, and haven't seen any signs of another ring."

Emma felt him huff beneath her, as the horse slowed down to a trotting pace.

"The compass led us in that direction, so I assumed it would be somewhere in the Shuttering Woods." He pulled the map out of his pocket and pointed just south of their location. "We can camp at the base of that mountain and start fresh in the morning."

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Emma felt the frustration subside a bit, and did her best not to complain any further.

Jones looked around at her then, his face serious. "We _will_ find another ring, luv."

Something in his features gave Emma pause. It was the mixture of determination and something else that she couldn't place; was it guilt?

Jones had done so much for them already, but she couldn't help but get the sense that he felt obligated to better their situation. After everything that has happened, despite her fighting him a majority of the way, he had kept his word, and ensured their safety.

Still, Jones seemed so laden, like he had something to prove to her and perhaps even to himself.

Wrapping her arms tighter around his middle to stay warm, Emma hoped he could feel the reassurance and gratitude that she couldn't put into words.

They had finally reached the mountain, a high rock formation sprinkled with frosty pine trees. Emma noticed that it didn't stretch across the scope of land, but protruded out of the ground alone, as if some kind of mirage.

The river they had traveled along since leaving the lake appeared to flow all the way to the base of the mountain, chunks of ice floating along in the frigid water.

Emma glanced up to see that Jones was staring at his chest in amazement, as she felt the familiar warmth of the compass next to where her hands rested on his jacket.

Clasping the compass firmly, Jones held it out for Emma; its needle was spinning again, pointing toward the enormous attraction in front of them.

The two made eye contact, Emma smiling in spite of herself, and Jones spurred the horse to gallop faster toward the mountain.

When they reached its massive base, Emma realized that the river seemed to split the range into two separate mountains, creating a narrow ravine just large enough for the horse to navigate, as if to invite them in. Jones hesitated a moment, but Emma nodded her chin against his back shoulder, urging him slowly forward.

_Almost there…_

Emma had just enough space to look up, the steep and jagged walls of rock towering on either side of them. She and Jones were forced to squint, as night had crept up on them, and except for a small glowing at what appeared to be the end of the corridor, there was little in terms of visibility.

She saw that the river slowed to a near stop, the particles of ice becoming a solid mass, like a large python ice sculpture. As they neared the light, Jones held up his good hand in front on his eyes to adjust, and the horse slowly made its way into a large clearing about the size of a basketball court.

Where there had been a slight dusting of frost on the land outside, this was different. Nearly the entire gorge was crystal clear, with large stalagmites protruding from the ground, and boulders that one could almost see through. Every surface was covered in powder white snow, not a blemish to be observed.

She had noticed a quiet covering the land when they had left the woods some time ago, but this valley had been absolutely silent. Emma could easily hear Jones' short breaths, and even the blood in her veins seemed to make a sound as it was pumped throughout her body.

As pristine and safe as the area looked, she felt uneasiness settle in her chest, and Emma was torn between a sense of excitement that they had come to the right place, and an overwhelming urge to flee.

Jones turned to look behind them and grabbed her arm, his voice nearly booming over the quiet.

"There, Darling. Look."

Emma let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding and slid off the back of the horse in a trance, following Jones. He seemed to be utterly confused, but in awe, of the grand site that lay before them.

Towering over the river that came from the ravine, also completely frozen solid, was a massive waterfall.

It must have reached four or five stories, its ridges of where water had once flowed over the rocks glistening like diamonds. Emma realized that the brightness extending from the waterfall was the source of light from before.

She felt Jones nudge her slightly with his hook, holding the compass in his hand as if to indicate that they needed to move closer to it. Emma nodded in agreement, and carefully approached the mysterious landmark.

There was a small pool about six or seven feet wide at the base of the waterfall, but due to its frozen state, Emma was unable to determine how deep it once was. She tested the durability of the surface with her boot before carefully walking onto the ice.

Though unsurprised that there was a reflection coming from the frozen waterfall's surface, Emma was a bit jarred by her own appearance.

Her hair was completely out of sorts, mangled to the point of hilarity, as Emma fleetingly wondered how Jones had refrained from teasing her all this time. More than anything, her face seemed almost worn; the lack of sleep showing itself in the form of dark circles under her eyes.

"Now you realize what an astonishing sight I am fortunate enough to behold."

Emma shot him a glare from over her shoulder and was greeted with a look of innocence, Jones holding out his arms to the side.

"I meant that as a compliment, luv."

As his mouth morphed into a wide grin, Emma moved to snap at him with a remark regarding his unruly beard, when she felt a piercing cold overtake her senses. It was as if she was being followed, a fear creeping up her spine, the hairs on her neck standing at attention.

"Mommy."

The small voice came from behind Emma, in a tone of desperation and sorrow. She turned slowly to face the waterfall, her reflection fading, and was met by a familiar scene that nearly made Emma's heart stop.

_A toddler stood facing out a large window, a white cotton blanket grasped tightly in her hand. Golden curls ran over the small shoulders, making her the vision of a princess to anyone with an appreciation for beauty. The child's rosy cheeks were streaked wet with tears, her voice shaky as she cried out again._

_"Mommy... want Mommy."_

Emma felt, rather than heard, Jones' approach from behind and she tensed in preparation for him to touch her, but he didn't.

"Is that child _you_, lass?"

She grimaced at the recognition; that the scene in front of her was not just one that played in her mind anymore, but one Jones could witness for himself. Emma nodded slowly, but couldn't turn to meet his eyes.

_The toddler was crying inconsolably, as her parents had decided to go out on a date that night to celebrate, leaving her alone with a stranger for the first time. _

It was her first memory; not the birthday cake she got when she was three, or the stars that her father painted onto her bedroom wall shortly after, but of that night.

_They waved goodbye, the joy on their faces as they got into the car and sped off, a stark contrast to the emptiness in her tiny chest._

That was the first time that Emma had felt abandoned.

Without warning, the scene flashed, changing into something entirely different.

There had been nothing to prepare Emma for this. Even when she realized Henry hadn't been real in the garden, there had been a sense of triumph, a small victory in their search to get home.

But this; this was something she could not face. Not here. Not now. Not again.

_The child was now a year older, wearing a pink t-shirt sprinkled with white flowers. She sat at a table, her short legs bobbing up and down in happiness, coloring a picture of two adults, a little girl, and a baby._

_A middle-aged man with light brown hair sat down with the child at the table, his voice low and gentle. "Emma?"_

_The man gave her a tight-lipped smile as he gingerly touched her arm to get the child's attention. "Sweetheart, Mommy and Daddy need you to listen right now, ok?"_

_The child peered up into his eyes, a look of adoration and wonder on her little face. "Ok."_

_A woman with long, black hair, who apparently been listening in the other room, came out to the table, her eyes bloodshot. She went to stand behind her husband, a bump showing under her sweater._

_"Emma, you need to know that we love you," the man began, his face distraught. "But Mommy is going to have a baby in a few months."_

_The child's face lit up at that, and she held up the colored paper, waving it around at them. "A baby brother or sister! See Daddy?"_

_Her mother started to cry again, choked sobs filling the room despite her feeble attempts to suppress them. Emma reached out her hand, the miniature digits wrapping around the woman's arm. _

_"Don't cry, Mommy. I'll be this many," she positioned her other hand to show four fingers, "and I can help when baby comes."_

_The woman seemed unable to stand it any longer, running back into the hallway and out of sight. Her father bit his lip, and then took a deep breath._

_"Emma, I packed all of your things in that purple suitcase that you like." He stood up and started down the hallway, but glanced back at the child. "You have to go away now," he said, the man's voice breaking on the last word as he made his way into the other room._

_Emma frowned at that, not seeming to understand. "Go away? Was I bad?" _

_The man reappeared with the suitcase, a unicorn embroidered on the front. He picked her up and headed for the door, a determined look on his face. _

_"No. This just isn't your home anymore."_

_Her foster parents walked her out to an unfamiliar car, the woman holding onto her and weeping. The toddler didn't shed a tear, misunderstanding that she was only going away for a bit, but that her parents would come for her later._

_But they never did._

That was the first time that Emma had felt lost.

She nearly heard Jones' soft murmurs beside her, feel his hand graze over her arm. But there was no waking from this daze, the relentless onslaught of suffering over many years, coming back to Emma in a matter of minutes.

Another flash.

_A young teenager, nearly sixteen, appeared to be sitting alone in a cafeteria. Her blonde hair was straight, shades of purple and black streaking throughout, and her eyes were lined with a heavy layer of make-up._

_A few other students shot the teen quick glances of uneasiness and whispers of mockery in her direction, but she seemed completely oblivious to anything else going on around her._

_A grungy girl of the same age with short, dark, spiky hair came over and sat down from across the table._

_"Hey Em," she said, her monotone voice was surprisingly loud over the chatter of kids at nearby tables, as Emma nodded mutely. _

_Her friend looked at Emma and raised an eyebrow, which was pierced with a silver loop. "I heard you were going to the dance this Friday," she said accusingly. "Don't tell me you're wasting your time at that Loserfest."_

_Emma seemed deep in thought, swirling a French fry in ketchup, as the condiment covered her plate like red paint on a canvas. _

_The blonde finally looked up, scowling. "I never said I wanted to go, Greta."_

_When her friend gave her an expectant look, Emma rolled her eyes, standing up and moving to throw away her lunch tray. _

_"I just said I wasn't not going."_

_The girls made their way out of the cafeteria, Greta's chains from her baggy jeans clinking against the studs on her belt. The chains were so heavy that the teen looked like a convict being transferred to a maximum security prison._

_They trudged down the nearly empty hallway, most of the other students still at lunch. As they rounded the corner, Emma stopped suddenly, and she pulled her friend inside the girl's bathroom with her. _

_Three boys were talking in hushed voices by the water fountain, a laugh now erupting between them. _

_A slight blush appeared on Emma's cheeks, and Greta noticed her embarrassment, a look of understanding on her features._

_"Are you still hung up on Josh?" _

_She sighed heavily, the stench of alcohol on her breath hitting Emma in the face. _

_"God, Emma, get over it. The guy is a douchebag wrapped in jockstrap."_

_As Emma turned her head back toward the boys, the one known as Josh shut his locker with a bang. His wavy, brown hair was perfect, the muscles on his arms flexing as he pulled on his letterman's jacket. _

_From that distance, Emma could just make out their words._

_"So did either of you nerds get dates to the dance yet," Josh's voice was deep and confident, the smile from his angular jaw reminding Emma of the sun shining on her while she tanned in summer, the brightness too much to look directly at for too long._

_"Nah, Jessica said she is already going with Ben. Can you believe that shit? What a slut." _

_"You just don't have the stamina for it, Houser." _

_The heaviest of the three boys laughed at his friend, shoving him into the locker with his biting joke. _

_"How about you, Josh? I heard that a certain _Swan_ was hoping you'd ask her. She's kinda cute..."_

_A small gasp escaped her, as Emma's breath caught, the revelation overcoming her ability to stop any physical reactions. Josh's laugh was bitter this time, as his mouth transformed into a sneer. _

_"Emma Swan?"_

_The girls exchanged glances, the two of them leaning forward in anticipation._

_"More like ugly duckling." Josh flung a gym bag over his developed shoulder, a look of disgust on his face. __"Who the fuck wants to go to Homecoming with an orphan?"_

_If the he had swung a baseball bat into her stomach, it would have hurt less than those words had. Her insecurities and doubt, the feeling of loneliness that had followed her since childhood, came rushing back, the realization firming in her psyche like concrete._

That was the first time that Emma had felt unworthy.

Numbness. That was something Emma had only prayed for one other time in her life, and it _hadn't_ been during her labor pains with Henry.

But she would give anything for it now; standing in front of the giant mirror of pain, the frozen waterfall taunting Emma with those images and words that plagued her for so long.

There was a deep, resonating chill surging through Emma's body as she watched the scenes unfold before her. Something pulled at her from below, making her knees weak; not the comfort of Jones' arms, but the frozen grasp of isolation and defeat.

"Come now, Emma, you must fight." Jones' voice seemed so distant, like a man shouting to her from across a football field.

A part of her had almost expected to see the next scene appear on the waterfall, and Emma let the image take over her senses completely. The feelings of her past came to life in her present self, and she could literally experience that which was reflected before her.

_"Tallahasse, baby."_

_Neal caressed her chin with his thumb, a wide grin on his face, his dimples showing through his unshaved scruff._

_Emma was soaring. No one had ever made her feel like this; exhilarated, yet secure. He was all the family she needed, and everything she had wanted since she could remember._

_"We're almost home," he sighed to her._

_Emma barely had time to wish him luck, and he leapt out of their shared car without a second glance. _

_Smiling, she moved into the driver's seat, and headed to their pre-decided meeting place. Soon, Neal would sell those watches he had stolen that she'd picked up for him at the train station, and they'd have enough money to go to Florida; enough to start a new life together, and far away from all of the foolish mistakes and empty promises._

_They had a plan, and it meant that Emma would finally have what she always dreamt of: a family._

_Pulling into a nearby parking lot by the river, she glanced down at her watch and saw that it was five minutes past the time for Neal to meet her._

_Emma had packed bags for them both, which hadn't been difficult considering neither of them owned more than what they could fit in their small car._

_There was warmth in her chest, the excitement and feeling of belonging filling her up. She knew that Neal wouldn't let her down; he was the one person who had never let her down._

_Emma shivered at chilly wind coming from the water, the distinct smell of salt and fish invading her nostrils. Pressing the call button, she frowned when a machine came over the speaker on her cell phone._

_The number wasn't in service? _

_"Damn right it's an error," she mumbled, hanging up the phone._

_Emma heard the click of a gun and a gruff voice ring over the silence before she even turned around._

_"Unless he set you up."_

_The statement from the middle-aged police officer should have surprised her, should have made her angry and devastated. But Emma's mind was reeling, and she could not process the idea that Neal had betrayed her._

_"Hands on your head, miss."_

_Wait, no. This doesn't make any sense._

_The officer maintained his stance, gun trained on her immobile form. _

_She could just make out a few bits of information: "stolen goods," "Canada," and "anonymous tip." What little of her brain was still functioning tried to rationalize that this was a trap; that they had Neal at the station and he had been uncooperative in giving them any more information._

_When he said "train station," though, Emma realized that they couldn't possibly have known about their plan without Neal telling them the truth._

_Even when the cop had barked at her to remove the watch, Emma's trance remained, the denial keeping all of her senses from working properly for a moment. _

"Bloody hell lass, concentrate. You're stronger than this."

There was a brief jarring of her senses and Emma felt herself being shaken, pressed, and embraced. But it was too late; nothing could make this memory fade from the icy surface.

Nothing could erase this from her soul.

_As the officer started to speak again, her heart slowed to a near stop, the force of all of this encompassing her stomach; relentlessly squeezing it like a vice. It was as if all the other betrayals in her life combined into one, crashing down onto her in a matter of seconds._

_Suddenly, she felt the cold metal of handcuffs close around her wrists; Neal's betrayal morphed into a physical reality. _

_The officer's question about where the other watches were hung in the air over them, and the last remnants of Emma's hope ebbed away with her four words in response._

_"They're not coming back."_

That was the first time that Emma gave up on a dream.

Even her warm tears had frozen to her cheeks, the arctic prison leaving Emma motionless. Where the plains had heightened her senses, the waterfall had stunned every one of them; all but the incredible aching in her chest.

Jones' shouts to get her to respond seemed more like a faint murmur, the details of his face a mere blur beyond the barrier of tears still waiting to fall as she dropped to her knees.

She didn't care where they were or if there was danger nearby. All thoughts of whether the compass glowed, their hygiene, and if a ring was in the vicinity, were now the furthest from her mind.

Emma had little recognition of being pulled immediately to her feet again, the sound of hooves clattering over the ice. Neither the warmth of his arms nor the reassurance from his voice could carry her out the dark abyss.

Perhaps this is why she had ended up here; the hardships that had clouded over a large part of her past, had now returned to destroy the happiness she had built.

His voice swirled around her again. "It's opened…must go inside…need to get you warm, luv."

Emma was just conscious enough to realize that she was being carried, the brown blur following them, more than likely their horse trudging behind.

It was much darker now, and Emma felt the hard ground as he laid her against a wall of some sort. She could just make out Jones' silhouette, as he pulled the horse further into what she guessed was a cave, still speaking to her in soothing tones.

"Not to fear, lass. I'll make a fire… leftover twigs from this morning's campsite."

Apparently the initial shock was wearing off as Emma noticed a small spark from across the area they shared, and she realized that the fire was already started.

As the numbness slowly began to fade, it was replaced with an onslaught of memories and voices. The heaviness of her chest grew, along with an unmistakable feeling of suffocation settling in.

Surviving the elements and physical wear of Narnia had been nothing compared to the overwhelming emotions invading her now. They had just witnessed the first eighteen years of her life, and now Emma felt like the lost, abandoned, unworthy, and hopeless girl she once was.

She watched as the flame grew brighter from only a few yards away. Jones had to hunch slightly as he made her way over to her from across the cave, which she now realized was no larger than a living room.

"Can you hear me, Darling?"

His voice was clearer this time, as Jones unpacked the gear, unzipping one of their sleeping bags and laying it out next to them. Emma felt a tug on her boots, the coolness of the cavern floor against her socks.

She saw him follow with his boots immediately after, setting them off to the side, and then kneeling directly in front of her.

"Emma, please. You must say something; you have me worried beyond belief."

Her back against the damp cavern wall, Emma stared into Jones' chest, the slight glint of gold from his necklaces, a minor distraction to the excruciation going on inside of her.

The tears had fallen, but her voice couldn't _or wouldn't_ follow, like an act of defiance to all of those who had pained her.

His hand cupped her cheek without warning, surprising Emma somewhat, as she continued to stare into the golden tokens dangling just inches from her face.

"Emma?"

_'Emma, look at me!' The gold dangling from his neck shone brighter than any of the treasure piled high around them. When she finally met his eyes, the look on his face surprised her so much that she almost stumbled backwards, his features covered in desperation and betrayal._

_'Have I told you lie?'_

_No. Not since she had held that dagger to his throat and he had confessed his true identity, his only reason for working with Cora. _

_Revenge._

_Except it was something else now; there had been a brightness in his eyes when he had told her she was brilliant and amazing, the warmth of his touch when they clasped hands had almost made her change her mind._

_Almost._

_'I can't take a chance that I'm wrong about you.'_

Emma shook her head slightly, allowing the brief memory to wash over her as more details of that adventure became clearer.

Her eyes jumped up to Jones', seeing a flicker of flame that had nothing to do with the fire behind him.

Instead of being afraid of what she would find there, Emma already knew. She had already found what she'd been searching for, everything that she had been running from, and had turned her back on time and again.

It was him.

Green eyes met blue, the depths of an endless ocean colliding with the hidden wonders of a vibrant forest. There was no hesitation, but Emma moved in slowly so she could appreciate the reaction of wonder and astonishment on Jones' face.

She took a second to wonder whether their first kiss had started like this, as Jones licked his lips in anticipation. Unwilling to wait any longer, Emma closed the small whisper of a gap that had remained between them.

The cavern lit up immediately, flames growing behind them and illuminating every shady corner of the area. There was an immense crackling as fire met ice, his lips fitting perfectly over hers.

Emma closed her eyes and allowed the feeling to overwhelm her, this time in a wonderful way, rather than painful. Like aloe over a raw burn, his soft kiss dulled the hurt and despair, lifting the weight and tightness of her chest.

Moaning, she pulled his head into hers, intensifying their touch, acting as if his mouth was the breath of life itself. A cloud lifted from her mind, from deep inside of her, and Emma felt as if someone had removed a blindfold from her eyes after being in the dark for so long.

No more questions, no more second guessing herself or doubt as to what was real.

It was all wrapped up into that moment: every smile, every scowl, every innuendo, every stolen glance; every word that she had pretended didn't mean a thing, but had meant _everything._

His arms wrapped around her, Jones' good hand still grasping the back of her neck, lightly tugging on her hair.

Emma ran her tongue over his lower lip, his throaty groan rewarding her immediately. His usual taste of spice remained, now mixed with tartness from wild berries that had managed to find in the Shuddering Woods.

The warmth radiating from his skin was nothing compared to the fire from his mouth, now doing unbelievable things to her own.

It was Jones who finally slowed the pace, carefully parting from their embrace, and he peppered her nose and chin with feathery kisses, as they both struggled to return their breathing to normal.

"I'd say we may have topped the other kisses with that one," she sighed, her voice raspy from their heated moment.

He leaned his forehead against hers, seeming to focus on every sensation. "Yes, well at least you don't appear to regret it this time."

Emma grabbed onto his gold chain, twirling it in her fingers.

"Now I _know_ you are lying," she murmured, the fire dying down slightly behind them as the horse whinnied nearby.

Jones quirked an eyebrow, an air of playfulness in his voice and a grin on his lips, as he placed his finger under her chin so as to force her gaze upward. "And how is that, luv?"

Emma's eyes closed briefly, but she drew in a deep breath, and opened them again to meet his unrelenting stare.

"Because I never regretted the first one."

His playfulness disappeared in an instant, the man's features flashing from confusion to disbelief, as she knew without saying anything more that he understood.

_Of course he did. He always had._

Emma couldn't help the wide smile that erupted onto her face, the elation inside bursting to the top.

"Hey Hook."

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**A/N: Yay! I know you guys waited a long time for her memory to return, so thanks for being patient. I wanted her to get to know AND trust Killian as both Emmas, and for it to be believable enough length of time-wise (keep in mind that it's only been about five days since he kissed in her in NYC.) The next chapter will be 14B, and separate from this one for a good reason ;)**

**Please don't forget to review! **


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Warning: this chapter consists almost entirely of smut. I made this chapter separate for that reason; although you can read a bit of the beginning and scroll past to the end, but there is very little you will miss of the plot (and nothing important.) However, I highly recommend you read it all. Oh, and Happy Hump day ;)**

**Thanks to those who review, follow, and favorite (and to JJ for editing.) You all are the reason I keep on writing!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Once Upon a Time **_**or its characters or anything from C.S. Lewis' **_**The Chronicles of Narnia**_** series.**

**This Chapter's Rating: M for graphic sexual content and language.**

* * *

Hook was on her again in an instant.

Emma hadn't had a chance to collect her thoughts before his hand wrapped into her hair, pulling his lips over hers, tongue and teeth crashing together like a beautiful collision.

An avalanche of memories continued to pour over Emma's mind, as Hook ravished her. Apparently, he was trying to top their last kiss, which she didn't think was possible.

Emma took a moment to consider what the two of them had overcome so far. It was incredible to think what they had accomplished during their time in Narnia, and that it had only been a small portion of her time with Hook.

Only moments ago Emma had felt cold, but now she needed release from the heat growing inside of her, quickly ridding herself of her jacket.

Hook's breathing was labored from kissing her relentlessly from her lips to her neck, refusing to miss an inch of flesh there.

"_I can't take a chance that I'm wrong about you."_

She hadn't been wrong; at least not until she'd walked away, leaving him chained in that giant's lair. Until he had yelled at her back, and the regret set in as she made her way down the beanstalk.

Hook had been honest, been beside her the entire time: coming back with the bean and taking them to Neverland, ensuring that David stayed alive until they found a cure, and risking everything; for her. He found her in New York somehow, making her believe a ridiculous story from a complete stranger.

More than anything, though, he had seen something in her that no one else had.

"_I've yet to see you fail."_

Hook held her face in his hand, making eye contact, the cloud of lust in his blue eyes clearing for a moment as he spoke.

"Emma…?"

She smiled at the bewilderment in his voice, like a man looking at the lost ghost of his lover.

"Yeah, it's me. I remember," she whispered, brushing her fingers over his lips. "I remember everything."

Emma thought she had never seen him look so magnificent, tears forming in his eyes, as his gorgeous mouth broke into a wide grin.

"I missed you every moment of that entire year."

She grabbed the lapels of his jacket, and he let her pull it off of his shoulders and onto the floor. Emma drew him into another kiss, before mumbling into his mouth.

"Wish I could say the same."

His grin remained, as he tickled her side, making Emma giggle into the empty cave. Hook gently pushed her onto the sleeping bag, trailing his mouth over the sensitive flesh of her neck, making her shiver.

Holding himself up on his elbow, Hook's good hand slid down to her stomach, and for a moment she thought he was going to tickle her again, only to have him sneak under sweater and press the rough warmth of his hand against her smooth skin.

He paused for a moment to meet her gaze, a softness there that Emma wasn't expecting.

"Are you quite certain, luv?"

Emma didn't even have to think, nodding her head and grasping the gold chains around his neck to pull his body over hers. Hook's stubble scratched her creamy skin, as he suckled from her jaw line to the collarbone, Emma pressing her lips tightly together.

She went to work on her jeans zipper, growing more impatient, as his talented fingers worked a kind of magic Emma had never experienced, under her bra, slightly pinching her nipple. Her breath hitched, and without thinking, she pushed her jeans down to her ankles, as if inviting him to do the rest.

He took the hint, and wasted little time, as he expertly used his hook and hand to pull the pants off her legs. Hook maintained eye contact with her, while planting kisses up Emma's one calf, from ankle to knee. The man was toying with her now, frustrating Emma even more than she already was; which was saying something.

In an instant, Emma pushed herself up, and moved so that she could straddle his waist, enjoying the shock on Hook's face, only to have it disappear when she slowly grinded into him. He let out a throaty moan, allowing her to adjust to him perfectly, his hardness pushing against Emma's aching core. She pulled her sweater over her head, and let it fall to the cavern floor. Cleavage poured over her black, satin bra, and she saw his eyes widen slightly, as he licked his lips again.

"You know pirate," Emma said, quirking her brow while untying the strings of his pants. "I can play dirty too."

The features of his face morphed into one of unadulterated desire, and Emma was nearly frightened by change in his demeanor. The blue was gone from his eyes, replaced with lust-filled obsidian.

"Believe me, Darling," he rasped, quickly pulling himself up into a sitting position, the cool metal of his hook biting against the scalding temperature of her back. "I am wholeheartedly counting on that."

She moved against him, her legs sticking to his pants slightly. The smell of leather and sweat cluttered her brain, as Emma let the last remnants of doubt leave her. Emma felt him use his hook to unclasp her bra, and she plunged her tongue past his swollen lips, as they continued their dance.

The effect she had on him was obvious, and Emma inwardly felt relieved that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. Why it had taken a dozen near-death experiences and a year apart for them to get to this point, was beyond her.

She supposed there had always been something to get in their way: being on the wrong side, Lost Boys, his ego, her having to focus on getting her son back…

Her stubbornness.

They had known each other several months before she lost her memory, and she knew it been even longer for him, having to wait another year just to see her again. There was no doubt in her mind now, that this had been a long time coming.

This was right.

His expert lips moved down her neck again, nibbling on her collarbone, and to her breast. Taking the other one in his hand, he massaged it roughly and she felt a surge of desire shoot throughout, making the hunger for him even more unbearable. Hook's mouth clamped over her taut nipple, and Emma finally let out a deep moan, an echo resounding over the cave. She arched her back, pushing the breast further into his mouth, wordlessly asking for more.

Hook carefully pushed her from his sitting form so that she was no longer straddling him, and stood up. In one fluid motion, his pants and shirt were gone, and Emma took a moment to enjoy the sight standing before her, leaning back on her elbows.

Even more amazing than what she had imagined, and mesmerizing in its own right, his body was flawless. Broad shoulders sat atop a pair of muscular arms, ones that had wrapped around her so many times, for different reasons. There was a leather band that situated over his shoulder and under his left arm, much like a detective's gun holster, and Emma realized that it was a device for the brace holding his hook. The bandage on his right forearm looked clean, and she took a minute to recognize that the wound must have stopped bleeding.

Emma moved her eyes over his upper body, which was lean and covered in dark ringlets of hair, starting from his pecks, and trailing down to form a line right below his naval. His gold necklaces clinked together when he leaned over her, Emma swallowing hungrily, at the thought of what she knew lay beneath the thin fabric of his linen drawers. Unable to wait, she reached out and tugged on them right below his knee.

"Someone is a bit anxious, I see," he said, gently pushing her hand away with a sly grin. Hook chuckled at her frown and slight pout of her lip.

"It's been awhile, Hook, so why don't you stop torturing and jus…"

Her words were lost as he dropped the undergarment past his knees and onto the floor. Emma did her best not to show how impressed she was at his size. Suddenly, it made sense to her why the man had such smug way about him, as she unashamedly stared at his erection, bobbing only feet away from her.

"The lady approves, I take it?"

Hook moved over Emma again, using his knee to part her legs beneath him. He made his way to her chest, as she let her arms fall over his back, embracing him.

"Uhuhh…" It was all the response Emma could muster, mewing into his shoulder. She wove her hand into Hook's dark hair, giving it a good yank to motivate him further.

"You think you're frustrated," he growled into one of her breasts, using his tongue to massage the swollen nipple. "Try waiting two blasted centuries."

His hand moved its way along her side, the calloused fingers tracing a path downward, as his mouth followed. Emma could feel her core pulsating for him, her heart picking up from an already rapid pace. With an eager gaze, he looped the thin string of her black thong around his hook, the cool metal biting against her sweltering skin, as he gently pulled them past her knees and off her legs.

That damn sex demon had _nothing_ on this guy.

Suddenly his finger was inside of her, easily sliding in because of her arousal. Her mouth opened into an "O," letting him pleasure her in ways she didn't think a man could with just a simple finger.

Just when she had thought he couldn't make her want him more, Hook went and surprised her yet again. He moved back to sit on his knees, straddling her lower legs, as he added another digit. She lifted herself up onto her elbows, encouraging him to lean over and kiss her briefly as she let the amazing feelings wash over her. She no longer remembered what cold felt like, a flush forming over her entirely and completely.

"Gods, you're so wet for me, luv."

His words turned her on even more, as he continued his onslaught, using a scissoring motion and then changing back to pushing, as the burn was building up in her belly. Before she could react, Emma felt the hard steel of his hook, the round side of it pushing into her folds and she threw her head back, biting her lip. Only seconds before going over the edge, he slowed his pace, pulling the hook out and bringing it to his mouth.

She whimpered in frustration, grabbing his shoulder, and pulling him closer to her. Emma heard him swear under his breath, and suddenly his tongue was there, working in tandem with his fingers, plunging into her wetness with even strokes.

Emma released what was left of her self control, yelling out into the dimly-lit cave. "Oh, yes…right there."

Hook pumped his tongue in and out of her, circling her clit with his thumb, and hitting a spot again that fired bolts of electricity down into her toes. It was all Emma could do to stay up on her elbows, her knees quivering wildly on either side of his head, as he lapped at her juices like a thirsty man stranded in a desert.

"Do you know what you do to me?"

He mumbled between her folds, his lips vibrating against her. Hook must have known that Emma was holding back, doing everything in her power to fight her release. The sudden need to _feel _him inside of her triggered something and she pulled her head back up to see his tongue dart out between her legs one last time, before Emma shattered around him with a long moan.

All the tension from the past week was gone in a matter of minutes, as she laid her head back on sleeping bag. He took his time licking up every drop of her, planting gentle kisses on her thighs. As she slowly came down for her high, Emma heard Hook scuffle around for something, and realized it was his jacket. He moved over her slowly, his eyes catching hers as he placed it behind her head, and leaned in to capture her lips with his own.

It was a slow and tantalizing kiss, Emma tasting herself on him, a combination of sweet and spice. She felt his member throbbing against her stomach, and Emma glanced up at him through her lashes. He took her face in his hands, catching her stare with his own, a look of pure admiration and awe written on his features.

"You're beautiful, Emma," his breath moved over her like a warm summer breeze, the words filling her up completely.

No man had ever quite complimented her like that before, and certainly not in a way that made her believe it. As much as she enjoyed the feeling, though, the thought of needing anyone's acceptance terrified her, and Emma pushed passed it, reaching out for him to continue.

She was surprised when Hook moved away to settle on his knees over top of her. Nearly rolling her eyes thinking Hook was going back to teasing her again, Emma then realized that he was trying to remove the device for his brace. He almost seemed ashamed, turning away from her, but she stopped him with her hand, pulling herself up into a sitting position.

"Let me," Emma mumbled, kissing his shoulder as she worked the clasp behind his shoulder.

It didn't take long, and the brace fell off of his bad hand, the hook clanging as it hit the cavern floor. He jerked reflexively when her fingers brushed over his stump, pulling his arm back slightly in surprise. When their eyes met, though, he seemed to relax, allowing her lips to fall there, as Hook stared at her with his mouth agape.

Emma pressed against his chest, forcing him onto his back without another word. She hesitated only a moment, and then grasped him firmly in her hand, slowly pumping up and down his shaft, and making Hook's eyes roll back into his head. His erection nearly pulsated in her palm, an amazing combination of smoldering hardness and softness of flesh between her fingers.

"Darling, you don't have to-"

She made him stop short, as she swirled the tip with her tongue and tasted the saltiness of his earlier arousal. He rewarded her with a throaty groan, shooting desire to her center, and without warning, Emma took him entirely into her mouth. The sound he made nearly made her cum again, and she leaned to kiss the head, only to deep throat him, making her gag slightly.

He was pulling on her arm, pleading her without words. There was no hesitation on her part, and Emma straddled Hook quickly, balancing her weight over top of him. She moved up the entire length of his hardness, wetting his shaft with her ready folds. Hook's eyes were filled with both lust and awe, as he lifted his hand up to cup her breast, kneading it with a force of desperation.

Emma couldn't stand it another second, and she settled her opening above his cock, sheathing herself over him in one quick motion. Their groans were like a duet, the sound filling her with such a feeling of content that Emma sighed. She eased all the way up so just the tip of him was inside of her, and back down, this time more slowly.

God, it was unbelievable. It took every ounce of strength within her to maintain focus. Emma moved up and down, the sensation of their movements making her wonder if she'd ever felt this good before in her life. He lifted his hips up to meet her thrusts, their rhythm nearly perfect, like they had done this a hundred times before. Emma let her head fall back, the edge of his hard length rubbing against her clit and bringing her that much closer to another orgasm. She picked up her pace, and Hook bit his lower lip, closing his eyes as Emma rode him harder.

"Mmmmm…you feel so amazing," he growled, his voice hoarse from their heavy breathing.

She leaned forward over him again, Emma's soft curls cascading around them both like a curtain of gold. Hook had a determined look on his face, and she knew he was doing his best to maintain his composure.

Suddenly, he grasped her hip, slowing their pace. "Straighten your legs out, luv."

He lifted himself up into the shape of an "L," and Emma knew immediately what he wanted. She lowered herself onto him completely, pulling out her legs to settle on either side of his now sitting form. With his good hand cupping her tight bottom, Hook carefully laid her back down unto the bag, their bodies still entwined.

"Neat little trick, Captain," Emma said, quirking an eyebrow at him playfully.

Hook moved back, almost pulling out of her completely, his face very serious, as he looked deeply into her eyes again. Emma panicked, thinking he was going to say something that he couldn't take back, something they weren't ready for.

Something _she_ wasn't ready for.

Before she could say anything else, though, he plunged himself back into her, stretching Emma to her limits, her drenched walls closing around full length of him.

"Ohhhhh...God," she moaned, wrapping her hand into his hair, as Hook settled his elbow next to her face, his good hand clasped firmly on her tight bottom.

His pace started slowly, but Emma could feel his body shaking above her, the anticipation being too much for both of them. She grabbed his ear between her teeth, biting it roughly before soothing it over with her tongue. Her fingernails dug into his muscular back, the rumbling of approval in his chest against her own. She felt him move faster, his hand roaming down the back of her leg, pulling it up against his side so he could thrust into her at a better angle. He was all business now, growling into her Emma's shoulder as she closed her eyes, feeling him hit the sensitive bundle of nerves that was nearly unbearable.

She wanted more; _needed_ more.

Why the hell had they waited so long? It had never been like this with anyone. It may never be like this with anyone again.

"Don't stop," she rasped into his ear, making Hook groan and urging him on to push deeper, her walls fluttering around his throbbing cock, as he continued to drive into her sweet spot.

Emma's mind clouded over, as she mumbled incoherently into his skin. She wrapped her thighs around the hinge of his sweaty hips, as he pumped in an out of her relentlessly, the slapping of their bodies echoing over the cavern's walls. Emma couldn't control the beat of her heart as it hammered against his chest, not a single inch of space between them, his thrusts becoming more and more erratic.

"Bloody fucking hell..."

Emma knew he was as close as she was and she crossed her ankles over the small of his back, grasping a fist of hair as he panted heavily into her neck. There was a tugging below her naval, and she was climbing, the unyielding assault of sensation pulling her into a wave of oblivion. Neither of them slowed, meeting each other evenly at every thrust, coming together in a haze of hot breath, groans, and sweat.

He pulled back to look at her again, never breaking stride, with a look of desperation. "Emma, please…let go for me, Darling."

His pleading words were her undoing, and Emma closed her eyes tightly, letting the last remnants of her self control dissolve around them. Suddenly, she was falling, stars shooting behind her eyelids as she cried out into the quiet night. Hook gripped her thigh for leverage, pushing himself into her a few more times, before he came with a feral grunt, spilling himself into her and filling Emma up completely.

Hook collapsed next to her, onto his back, as they both panted heavily into the quiet cave. It took a few minutes for her senses to return, the fire growing low only few feet away from them.

After some time had passed, he shuffled around in their gear, pulling out a blanket and throwing it over them both. Emma heard the horse shuffle against the rocks, and drops of water from the roof pattered onto damp floor nearby.

_Wait, drops of water?_

She glanced over Hook's chest, which glistened with sweat, and propped onto her one side, pulling the blanket to cover herself. The waterfall that had opened to let them in was no longer frozen, its water gushing over the cave's opening.

"It must have thawed," Emma breathed in awe, her mouth slightly agape as Hook grazed his hand over her bare shoulder.

"Hmmhmm," he mumbled, kissing her there before starting a trail back up her neck and behind her ear. "Perhaps it was the effect of milady's _passionate_ nature."

Emma couldn't help but smile, allowing his affectionate teasing to give her a sense of safety. Although they hadn't found a ring, she couldn't help but feel something had changed, for the better, and it had been quite the challenge for them both.

And as she snuggled against him, letting the fire down to a soft glow, not needing any further warmth, Emma allowed herself to feel satisfied and protected.

She wouldn't worry about how terrifying it was, or the potential hurt this could cause them both. If only for tonight, Emma would let her walls down for the one person who had never asked her to take them down completely.

"Has it really been centuries since you've been with a woman?"

Her voice was low, but in the quiet of the cave, Emma was sure he would hear it. A few seconds went by before he responded, his arm covering hers as they spooned under the wool blanket.

"No Darling," he replied, and Emma felt her eyelids droop, as exhaustion pulled her further into darkness. She was almost sure she had heard him whisper into her hair before being lulled to sleep.

"It's been centuries since I've been with the right one."

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**A/N: Don't be too shy to review this one ;)**

**Next chapter: Our favorite duo find help in an unexpected place, Hook has something to share with Emma, and the King of Narnia returns.**


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